


Flowers of Evil

by the_winter_witcher



Series: Flowers of Evil [1]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Alternate Universe - Dark, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Assassins & Hitmen, Blades, Blood Drinking, Blood Kink, Blood Sharing, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Bondage, Car Sex, Come Eating, Come Marking, Come Swallowing, Comeplay, Consensual Violence, Daddy Kink, Dark Jaskier, Eventual Smut, F/M, Geraskier, Implied Sexual Content, Kidnapping, Knifeplay, M/M, Masturbation, Mild Smut, Multi, Non-Consensual Violence, Oral Sex, Polyamory, Public Blow Jobs, Public Sex, Rope Bondage, Rough Sex, Smut, Torture, Video Cameras, dark geralt, geralt x reader x jaskier, jaskier x reader x geralt, leads to smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:26:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 26
Words: 32,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23084734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_winter_witcher/pseuds/the_winter_witcher
Summary: A dark/modern AU where Jaskier is part of the Lettenhove crime family. You and Geralt are hired contract security/hitmen. Multi chaptered fic, each chapter will have it's own warnings but please expect this to be dark with mainly smut, lots of blood/torture/knives/pain etc.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Reader, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion/Reader, Jaskier | Dandelion/Reader
Series: Flowers of Evil [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1660966
Comments: 28
Kudos: 41





	1. Flowers of Evil

**Author's Note:**

> Pairings: Geralt x f!reader x Jaskier
> 
> Summary: A dark!Modern AU were Jaskier is part of the Lettenhove crime family. Geralt and reader are hired contract security/hitmen. 
> 
> Warnings: Graphic violence, blood, torture, hints at sex, this is very dark.
> 
> Word Count: 902
> 
> This series is also on my tumblr: the-winter-witcher.tumblr.com
> 
> I hope you like it, please feel free to leave me comments etc <3

Geralt is on a job and has his mark tied to a chair when you come strolling in-

_I see you’ve left the fun parts for me_

He has no idea what the hell to do as you begin to interrogate his target using much more violent methods than even he would employ to get what you need. All he knows is that you’re clearly enjoying it way too much as you pull the man’s finger nails off with a smile and he knows he’s in trouble because goddamn if it’s not the hottest thing he’s ever seen.

It doesn’t take long for him to realise you’ve both been employed by the same person as you make idle chit chat with him while continuing to torture the man beneath your hands.

After that day you stick together, the big bad Wolf and his _innocent_ counterpart taking on contracts as a duo, killing together, living together and fucking together.

One day you’re approached by the Lettenhove family, they’ve heard of you and want to employ some ‘protection’ for their son and heir Jaskier, but only if you can prove your worth.

_How about we take the him on an outing with us, target of your choice. If he likes what he sees we’re hired and you pay us double the usual rate. If not, well, don’t pay us and we’ll be on our way._

Your bold as brass as you propose the idea, eyes flashing across the table to where the man sits and you can see he’s wary of the idea. Geralt smirks as he catches the stranger’s reaction as well.

_Worried to be tagging along with the Butcher of Blaviken?_

And that’s how he finds himself tied to a chair next to your actual mark, a bag on his head with holes for his eyes and his wrists strapped beneath him. Front row seats you’d called it.

Geralt towers over him, the damn irritating smirk still smeared across his handsome face as he waits for you. He’d told the man on the way over that he should watch you carefully because he was about to get the best damn show of his life.

_What’s the matter, Butcher? What are you waiting for?_

The man at Jaskier’s side spits the words out, clearly aware of the reputation your companion has forged for himself.

_Oh, I’m just here to do the heavy lifting. I’m not the Butcher. She is._

He nods to where you emerge from the shadows and you wave daintily at them, practically skipping over to place a soft kiss on Geralt’s cheek.

_Thank you for the introduction baby, did you bring my tools?_

He hands you a leather bag that clinks as it moves, one which you immediately set down on the floor and begin to rifle through. The smile never leaves Geralt’s face as he watches you work and there’s an obvious bulge in his trousers that grows with each passing second.

_What the fuck?_

Jaskier doesn’t take his eyes off you as you finally pull out the contraption you’d been looking for and start your usual lengthy process of gathering intel.

My client wants to know where your boss is. Now you can tell me and I’ll make this easy on you, or, and this is my preference, you can not tell me and I’ll drag it out of you with all the tools I have in my little bag here. Choice is yours.

_Fuck you_

_Looks like I get to play after all_

The room reverberates with the sounds of screaming, flesh tearing and bones breaking as you set to work, the occasional manic laugh from you breaking through the gore; by the time you’re through with him he has burns, cuts, bruises and multiple missing body parts. There are multiple bodily fluids soaking the tarp you’d laid down in preparation, a few teeth laying amidst the mess, but you have the information you need.

You take a step back and turn to look at Jaskier who hasn’t said a single word during your performance, a bloody smile on your features as you bat your eyelashes at him.

_Let him go Geralt, and would you be so kind as to finish off the other one if he’s still breathing?_

_Anything for you my love_

He presses a passionate kiss to your gore covered mouth as he passes by to fulfil your request, and you both let out a moan at the sensation. Normally you’d both already be on the floor fucking but today you have a guest.

_So, was it everything you’d hoped for?_

You eye up the slender man as he stands up and stretches his legs, rubbing at his wrists to encourage circulation back.

_Fuck. You’re hired. On one condition._

_And what that might be?_

_I want to come on every contract with you. The wolf was right. Best damn thing I’ve ever seen in my life._

You cock an eyebrow as you register what he’s said, one hand on your hip as you mull his proposal over.

_There’s more to you than I had thought, little Prince. As long as Geralt’s okay with it I’m in._

_Hmm, he’ll have to get accustomed to our usual ways but I’m sure he can do that. I’m in too._

_Well then, Viscount, looks like you’ve got yourself some new security. Hopefully it’s not more than you bargained for._


	2. Jealousy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based off the anon prompt- Before Geralt and reader actually let Jaskier into their bed,he get his frustration out on a number of exotic whores,let's just say that before his darling assassin's dragged him into their blood soaked sheets,anyone who was trying to get into Jaskier's bed knew that Jaskier's tastes ran towards white haired and Greek good chiseled man and dark Marilyn Monroe type woman,needles to say anyone who was in his bed didn't live long enough to brag about it because the originals they copied waited them. 
> 
> Pairings: Geralt x f!reader x Jaskier  
> Warnings: smut, sex, voyeurism  
> Word Count: 547

Oh once he meets you he _definitely_ has a type that he looks for in his bed partners, always a ripped white haired man and a dark mysterious woman, poor imitations at best.

He’s a bit of a sadist _(shocker)_ so he has Geralt and you stay outside his door to ‘guard’ him while he has his fun. It doesn’t go unnoticed by the pair of you but you just shrug it off because, well, if you wanted him you know you could have him.

He gets increasingly frustrated at your lack of caring, that no matter what he does to make you jealous it doesn’t affect you meanwhile his own jealousy is reaching its peak.

He watches the way you dance around each other on assignments, the way you’re so obviously in sync and the clear desire you have for each other permeates the very air around you with every movement. Of course you try to keep it professional when you’re on a job but even then it’s just so clear to him that you live and breathe for each other and he can’t stand being left out.

He goes so far as to start complaining to the two of you about his lovers to see if it stirs _anything_ in you.

Jask: Guys I’m serious I’m really hurt. They told me they don’t want to see me anymore. _**Me**_. Can you imagine that? I want you to kill them. It’s the only thing that will help me heal.

Geralt: How about you just keep your dick in your pants for five minutes and then we don’t have to deal with your theatrics?

Jask: How dare you talk to me like that?

You: Why, what are you gonna do? Make me kill him?

It carries on for a while before one day he walks past your room and hears sounds he knows aren’t meant for his ears. They’re private and laced with lust and love and of course he should just walk away but he doesn’t. He can imagine the scene inside, he’s done it often enough, you and Geralt wrapped up in each other so close that there’s no room to breathe; sweat dripping from the both of you, sheets tangled below your wanting bodies and eyes blown wide with need. He’s surprised by how soft you both sound, all gentle moans and sighs and then-

“I think the Song Bird is ready, my love”

A gentle moan followed by

“But what if I’m not?”

“Talk to me, what is it?”

“I’m not ready to share you my Wolf, not yet”

There’s a vulnerability he never would have guessed you were capable of as you admit your feelings.

“I will _always_ be _yours_ my love, I swear it”

Another sigh and a moan and he hears the sheets shift as you both settle into a new position ~in his mind he’s imagining how Geralt would look looming over your much smaller frame, a hand round your delicate throat~

“I love you Geralt”

“I love you too, my angel”

More sounds of pleasure escape from the heavy oak door that Jaskier is leant against, hand brushing himself through his clothes as he listens.

“Tomorrow then, we’ll do it tomorrow”

“Are you sure my love?”

“I am”


	3. Meet The Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on the anon prompt: In Flowers, Jaskier only decides to destroy his siblings once they overstep their boundaries by trying to buy off Geralt and reader, as if money is the issue, or when his siblings covet what is rightfully his, both Geralt and reader are his, to adore, to love, to own and his siblings as thick as they are, should know this.
> 
> Pairings: Geralt x f!reader x Jaskier   
> Warnings: violence, threatening behaviour   
> Word Count: 557

All eyes are on the two of you as you take your place behind Jaskier’s chair at the side of the table. You ignore the murmurs of the family as you stare straight ahead, eyes trained on the framed artwork that hangs opposite you- a lavish oil painting depicting the current patriarch and his wife.

You both stay stock still, hands crossed in front of you as you stand guard by his side. You had known walking in that it would be frowned upon, most bodyguards were left at the door (if invited at all) rather than be trusted to be privy to the secrets that were spilled in that room, but Jaskier had requested it and you were more than happy to oblige.

_Why are they here Julian?_

_You know the code about outsiders_

_What were you thinking?_

_They can’t be here_

Jaskier drums his ring studded fingers heavily across the table as he waits for them to stop talking before he has his own say.

“Where I go, they go. Or had you forgotten why you hired them in the first place?” his voice is a lazy drawl as he speaks.

_I think it is you who has forgotten why they were hired_

_Have you lost your mind?_

_Are you so ridiculous that you think this is love? Is that it?_

_Nobody but us will ever love you_

You see Geralt’s jaw tick at that last comment and he shifts in place slightly as rage simmers inside of him.

“Oh we can show you just how much we love him if you’d like, I’m sure you’d all enjoy the show” you turn to meet the eyes that are on you as you speak, your voice not wavering at all. Jaskier reaches behind him for your hand and brings it to his lips to press a gentle kiss to it as he smiles at his family.

_Tell your bitch to pipe down Julian_

“I suggest you learn some manners _dear brother_ before I let her get her hands on you. And _that_ would be something _I’d_ quite enjoy watching”

_Hmm well I suppose they are pretty playthings_

_Do you have them well trained Julian?_

_I’d like to have a bit of fun with the Wolf_

_I want the girl, show her how to properly use her mouth seeing as she’s so insistent on opening it_

At that comment Geralt brings a large hand to rest on Jaskier’s shoulder and squeezes just once, a notion that he greets with a slight nod of his head and a gentle press of your hand which is still entwined with his.

Before anyone can blink Geralt is stalking towards the man who had insulted you, blade fisted tightly in his hand as he pulls it from its chest strap.

“I suggest you apologise to the lady” he growls “or I’ll take your tongue" 

_Julian, Julian make him stop. I’m sorry. Please!_

"Hmm. We can either behave like civilised people and have the discussion we came here for, or we can leave. But if one of you so much as _looks_ at my companions in the wrong way I will not hesitate to let them have some fun. Are we clear?”

A heavy silence settles round the room as Jaskier smirks, knowing there shouldn’t be any more issues. 

“Shall we begin?”


	4. First Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on the anon prompt- In the Flowers of Evil au, Geralt and Reader letting Jaskier watch them in bed for the first time.
> 
> Pairings: Geralt x f!reader x Jaskier  
> Warnings: bondage, unprotected sex, exhibitionism, voyeurism, choking, dirty talk, unprotected sex. This is basically just porn.  
> Word Count: 1091

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where it starts to get more kinky and it will steadily decline so please turn back now if this is too much, like legit it is only gonna go downhill in terms of smuttiness and extreme kinks you have been warned!

The air in the room is hot and heavy, a humid blanket that suffocates Jaskier in his seat. The room has a metallic scent that gets caught in his nose and settles in his lungs so that with every breath he can _feel_ the debauchery deep within his chest.

His eyes rake over the discarded pile of bloodied clothes, _his clothes_ , in the corner and along the trail of your own that lead to the bed.

It had only been a day since he’d overhead the conversation between the two of you and true to your word you’d invited him back to your bedchamber that evening after another successful interrogation. Jaskier had joined in for this one, eager to prove to you both that he truly was ready to join you in _all_ aspects of your life, and it seemed it had worked.

The second you were through the door to your room you’d had your hands and mouths all over him, ridding him of all but his boxers and pressing him down on to the chair he was currently occupying. Geralt had let out a low rumble of a chuckle before strapping him down to the seat while you continued to press open mouthed kisses to his neck.

“Well my little Song Bird, we figured you like to watch, so settle in”

With that Geralt had lifted the chair to turn it towards the bed, his strong body handling the weight as though it was nothing.

He’d watched with lust glazed eyes as the two of you kissed and although it was something he’d seen a thousand times before he knew that this was different. There was no restraint anymore between the two of you, no standing on ceremony as you devoured each other. You’d torn each others clothes off with a viciousness you usually reserved for killing. It was truly beautiful the way you moved together.

And now, bound to his throne of lust, he follows the curve of your body with his eyes. From where your legs are parted between Geralt’s on the black bedsheets, tracing along the curve of where your back is arched up to meet his sculpted body, right up to the silk tie wrapped tightly round your neck and wound taught to Geralt’s knuckles as he pulls. Your eyes are closed, hands desperately clutching at the soft sheets below you as you moan out Geralt’s name.

He has never seen anything so obscenely filthy before, the red of the tie like a lifeline between the two of you as he pulls you closer with it, so delicate and thin it could snap at any moment. There’s a trust between the two of you that mirrors that which you have when you work and he finally _understands_. Understands that this is more than just sex, more than built up desire, this is everything a person could possibly want.

“Look at me my love” Geralt brings a large hand to cup your face gently as he speaks, hips still snapping into you at an alarming pace despite his softness. Your eyes flutter open at his voice and flick over to Jaskier for a second before settling on your lover.

Your lips press to his for a bruising kiss, hands moving from the tangled clutch of sheets and in to his wild mess of hair. He lets out a low growl as you pull on it and the sound resonates deep within Jaskier’s groin. He pulls against his restraints, desperate to be able to touch himself as he watches the two of you, and lets out a frustrated groan when he fails. Geralt smirks at him as he keeps fucking in to you, golden eyes twinkling mischievously as he watches him pull on his bindings.

“Enjoying the show little Prince?” your eyes are back on him, the tie round your neck loosened enough now for your to speak as you lay back on the bed.

He can only nod in response, at a loss for words for the first time in his life.

More moans fall from your lips as Geralt moves a rough hand to palm your chest, catching one of your pebbled nipples between his fingers and rolling it in time with his hips while his mouth rests against your ear to whisper sinful words of encouragement to you. His white hair is splayed across the black sheets, a perfect contrast of darkness and light.

Geralt doesn’t pry his eyes off of Jaskier as he continues to work your body, not stopping until he feels the tell tale shudder as you start to come undone underneath him.

“Need you my Wolf, please, don’t stop”

Jaskier’s not sure he’s ever heard anything as pretty before in his life, hearing you beg has him practically coming right then and there.

“Shit Y/N, didn’t know you could ask nicely”

“Like to hear her beg do you Song Bird?”

“Fuck yes, shits the hottest thing I’ve ever heard”

“Well my love, you heard the man, beg ”

You look up at him with wide eyes as you feel yourself get closer to your release.

“Geralt, please, need you to come for me”

“Oh I will my love, I will. Let me hear some more of those pretty words from you first though”

“Please, I’m so close, fuck”

Watching the way you plead, the desperate edge in your voice and the utter dedication to the man currently fucking into you pushes Jaskier over the edge and he feels his cock twitch as he comes without being touched, heat spreading rapidly through his body as he releases all over himself.

“Shit…”

“See my love, so good you don’t even need to touch him”

The praise from Geralt has lightning bolts of pleasure shocking through your veins and you clamp your mouth to his neck as you come, moans muffled by his pale skin as you breath them in to him. Your teeth pricking into the thin skin of his neck cause him to follow your orgasm with his own and you let out more sighs of content as you feel him fill you up.

You take a few moments to recover, head resting against Geralt’s neck as he holds you to him before he gets up to undo the ties that hold Jaskier in place. You gesture for them both to lay with you as you pant out the last remaining curls of desire from your body, and they happily oblige, nestling beside you as you come down from the high.


	5. Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based off of the anon prompt- Do reader and Geralt ever find out that Jaskier was listening to them that night in flowers?
> 
> Pairings: Geralt x f!reader x Jaskier  
> Word Count: 383

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick drabble :) apparently I was feeling italics when I wrote this huh?

He doesn’t mean for it to come out he’s just so caught up in the moment. The way you look, so compliant and wanting, underneath Geralt’s large frame has him moaning out sinful confessions as he watches. Murmurs of deep dark desires he never meant to see the light of day.

You’re on all fours this time, face buried in the silk sheets that still hold Jaskier’s scent as Geralt pulls your hair and fucks into you from behind. You’re angled so that with your head to the side your eyes meet his, and he can see tears welling in them from the bruising grip Geralt has on your hips.

_Shit, looks just as good as I imagined_

You let out a small chuckle at his admission, one that quickly gets strangled in your throat and turns to a moan of pleasure as Geralt pulls your hair harder.

_Fuck my Wolf, you feel so good in me, love the way you take me_

_That’s it, good girl, keep moaning my name_

And he doesn’t _think_ before he opens his mouth; he just hears the way you _praise_ each other, watches the way you _touch_ each other, the pure _devotion_ and _adoration_ and it’s all too much~

_Gods watching you is even better than listening to you_

And he knows he shouldn’t have said that, you were never meant to know, never meant to find out how he’d stood leant against that solid door and palmed himself beneath his trousers as he’d listened to your soft sighs, that he’d repeated it in his head that same night over and over until he was empty and desperate.

The silence that falls over the room is deafening, crushing his chest more with each passing second as his confession hangs in the air.

_Did nobody ever teach you it’s rude to eavesdrop little prince?_

_Best teach him a lesson, my love_

You both grin at him, sharp smiles that have too many edges and make your teeth look like fangs hiding beneath the hard lines of your lips.

And he can tell, from the way your eyes glint and the fact that Geralt is no longer on the bed with you but is instead striding towards him, that he’s in for one hell of a learning experience.


	6. Weapons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based off of the anon prompt- Okay but who in FoE is best able to make sharpening a blade downright pornographic? My money is on Geralt.
> 
> Warnings: weapons, knives, knife play, knife kink   
> Words: 501

There’s something inherently erotic about watching the two of you work on your weapons and Jask could sit and stare for hours.

You don’t mean it to be a turn on for him, not at first, but once you notice you turn it into a competition to see who can have him squirming in his seat the quickest.

Geralt works his blade with well versed hands, letting out a deep hmm as he presses the edge of the blade against the whetstone, carefully studying it with his amber eyes. He makes a real show of it, his sculpted muscle flexing underneath his slightly open shirt, loose hair hanging to frame his chiseled jaw. Another deep growl and he brings the knife to rest in front of his eyes, twirling it ever so delicately in his thick fingers as he looks over it and you hear Jaskier audibly gulp as he watches.

You take the blade from him, running your index finger softly over the edge and Jaskier could swear his heart is in his throat as you do so.

You bring your tongue to swipe along your bottom lip as you take the whetstone from where it rests between Geralt’s legs, winking at him as you do so.

“What do you think, my little Prince?”

You walk over to Jaskier with the knife balanced in your palm, a beautiful grin on your face as you stalk towards him. You bend down once you’re in front of him, eyes just shy of his, and you raise the blade to press against the collar of his shirt.

“Do you trust me?”

“You know I do my love" 

You bring the blade below his shirt, running it along his collarbone and leaving an angry red line in its wake, though no blood is drawn and you let out a disappointed sigh.

"Geralt my love, it seems that your skills have become a little dull”

Jaskier whimpers under your touch as you press a little harder to try and elicit the desired response, knowing that there’ll be a delicious trail of bruises for you to kiss along later.

“What do you think? Does he need to work on it?”

“Hmm, I don’t think it matters much how you reply to that little bird, I can see how hard you are from here” Geralt’s response sounds from behind you and you throw a grin over your shoulder at him.

Jaskier sputters a few times as if he’s about to protest but you silence him by climbing on top of his lap and pressing an open mouthed kiss to the already bruising skin of his chest.

“Seems you’re right my Wolf, though maybe if you’d done a better job I could have helped him out of his clothes easier”

With a low chuckle Geralt moves from where he’s perched to stand behind you, his large hand wrapped in your hair to expose your throat to him.

“Oh my love, I’ve only just gotten started with my work"


	7. Sweetness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based off of the anon prompt- would read Flowers of Evil headcanons/stories all day everyday. So here's a possibly tricky one. What makes each of them go genuinely soft and sweet over each other (as opposed to the usual hot-n-heavy)?
> 
> Warnings: none, this is actually the only chapter you will get that doesn't have any. It's fluff!  
> Word Count: 325

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a sweet little drabble of sugar and love for our favourite little murder hobos.

There’s not much room for sweetness in your lives, but what little you do have is stolen murmurs and whispers in dimly lit corridors under the safety of silence. A soft word and gentle kiss, admissions of vulnerability that have to be hidden from everyone lest they use them against you.

_My love, little bird, angel, my Wolf, little Prince._

Words not meant for anyone to hear as lips sound the words softly into even softer skin.

You make the most of the precious moments of weakness while you can, knowing that they may not come around again for a long time. Truths are uttered gently from all three of you, sweet words of benediction as you spill your souls. It’s a confession of the mundane, the every day joy that you bring each other that none of you thought you would ever be able to share with another.

~ _I love that you leave lavender honey tea out for me every night_  
 _I love the way you smile when you drink it_  
 _I love the taste it leaves on your lips_

~ _I love how gentle you are when you tend to my wounds_

~ _I love the smile you only wear for Jask when you think nobody else is looking_

~ _I love the way you just stand in the corner and brood_

~ _I love that you always match your necklace to my tie and Jask’s cufflinks_

The prayers fall from the three of you for what feels like hours as you drink them in, interspersed with gentle kisses between the praise, worshipping at each others alters until you are satiated and drunk with love. 

You stay nestled in your peaceful cathedral for as long as you can, basking in the glow of your admissions, until a ring from Jaskier’s phone breaks the silence and you are all pulled back to reality.

_This_ , you think as you leave, _this is what it feels like to be loved_.


	8. Irion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based off of the anon prompt- I'm an absolute slut for smut born of worry, so how would the boys react if the reader was kidnapped and then their utter relief at finding her okay?
> 
> Warnings: This is very dark, torture mentions, violence, blood, eventual smut  
> Word Count: 2925

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my longest chapter to date and oh my god did I enjoy writing it!

They’re not sure where it went wrong; it had been a mundane operation for you, though you had to go it alone as the men were both indisposed on another project. You’d had your target strapped down, blade slicing into him as you extracted all of the information you’d been asked for. It had been going well until there’d been a bright flash and you’d been thrown to the ground unconscious.

Since then the boys have been receiving regular videos from an unknown source, each one varying in length and showing you being held captive with more and more marks appearing on your body with each tape that shows up. Sometimes there are messages in the videos, a cold voice from somewhere off screen that never gives any hints as to who they are or what they want, instead they use the opportunity to say exactly what they plan on doing to you next- see Wolf, you hurt ours we hurt yours. Despite it all, no matter how badly bruised up you are or how poor the conditions you’re being kept in are, they can see even though the grain of the lense that the spark in your eyes that they love is still there, the fiery determination as you spit and kick and bite whenever anyone gets too close to you.

It drives them both crazy knowing you’re out there tied up in some dingy hell hole because they weren’t there when you were taken, weren’t able to protect you while you had been out there trying to protect Jaskier from his enemies. They use all of the considerable resources that Jaskier has at his disposal to try and track you down while Geralt uses his own connections to see if there are any whispers of you and your whereabouts. They burn through every lead they find, Geralt cutting down anyone who stands in their way as they search for you. With every cold lead they get more ferocious, to the point that even Jaskier begins to get his hands dirty as he takes out his rage and loss on whoever he can lay his fists on.

It takes a full three months of searching before they finally find you, holed up in the dirty basement of a warehouse owned by the rival Irion family. They tear through the armed guards like they’re made of paper as they come for you, not stopping until they are both bathed in blood and the ground is littered with corpses. They lose count of the number of bodies they leave in their wake, the White Wolf and the Song Bird so in love and hurting and filled with pure rage that they can’t stop.

They hear you before they see you, your voice coming from behind a cold metal door. 

_Oh come now, there’s no need for this. I can see the fear on you which can only mean one thing, they’re coming for me, and if that’s the case the best chance you have of getting out of here is to let me go now_.

Small gasps of pain punctuate each word but your voice is still the same playful lilt they’ve grown to love.

They go wild at the sound of you as Geralt literally tears the door from its hinges to get to you, so desperate to have you back in his arms that he’s through it in seconds. Jaskier is practically foaming at the mouth with rage as they enter through the ragged hole in the wall where the door used to be just moments ago and his anger only increases when he sees you. You’re bound to a sterile metal chair that’s bolted to the floor in the centre of the room, clothes torn and barely covering you. You’re littered with various injuries; burn marks run the length of your neck while numerous cuts and scars lace the rest of your body, your face is bruised and swollen in varying shades of black and streaks of rust cover your bare skin. But what enrages him the most is the man stood behind you, blade pressed to your throat hard enough to draw blood as he tries to threaten your life. It’s clear that he has no idea what he’s doing as the knife shakes in his failing grip.

“Oh hello boys, took you a while to get here!” There’s a smile on your face shining brightly despite the gore that decorates your features, “would you help a girl out while you’re passing through?”

“Shut up bitch, you two not a step closer or I will slit her throat. Put down your weapons. Now”

They can see you roll your eyes as your captor speaks, completely uninterested in the threat. Without a word they look at each other and lay down the weapons they’re holding to appease him, and the moment he looks down to breathe a sigh of relief Geralt pulls a knife from it’s hidden place by his heart and has it sailing through the air to hit him squarely between the eyes. He manages to let out a pained groan of surprise before he drops to the floor.

“Didn’t have you pegged for the romantic type” you smirk as you eye the hilt of the knife, recognising it as a gift you’d bought him for his birthday a few years back.

“Didn’t have you pegged for the damsel in distress type either but here we are”

“As much fun as this talk about pegging is perhaps it could save for later?”

“Hmm, I suppose you’re right. Either of you wanna help me out of this chair?”

They both leap into action at that, Jaskier searching the body behind you for keys for the cuffs while Geralt tries using brute force to tear them from you, not wanting to delay a second longer.

There’s a metallic clink and a sigh of relief before Jaskier is by you, bloodied keys hanging from his pale hands. 

Geralt helps you to stand on shaky legs as you’re finally freed, months of not being allowed to walk around has left you weak and you rely on him for support as you get used to the feeling.

“So, did you kill them all or have you left any for me? Nice to see you by the way”

Jaskier smiles as he hands Geralt his prized knife back, relief flooding through his body as he presses his lips to your cheek.

“Unfortunately my love they’re all dead, couldn’t risk anyone stopping us from getting to you” 

“Glad to see you’ve not changed at all”

“Well it has only been three months, if you’d wanted change you should have left me here for longer. Speaking of, what the hell?”

There’s a dense silence for the first time ever between the three of you, a bitter bile rising in the back of your throats as the weight of your words hits. 

“I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry”

“We know, don’t worry, we know. We’re sorry too. We should have been there. We should have found you sooner”

A soft kiss is pressed to your forehead as Geralt lifts you up to carry you and at first you go to protest, you are no damned flower and you don’t need help, but you realise as he cradles you to him that you need this, all three of you. You reach for Jaskier’s hand and he gladly obliges, grasping on to you as though you could be lost to him again at any second. You close your eyes and rest against Geralt’s strong chest as he walks; you try to breathe him in, inhaling the scent of him until it stains your lungs and fills your chest and it’s all you can taste. Your hand clings to Jaskier, tethering you to him like a lifeline and you trace his palm with your blood crusted fingers as you memorise each fold in the skin, each line mapping it’s way across the soft skin. The cool metal of his signet ring presses into your hand and you find it oddly calming, a gentle weight that connects you to him. You finally feel safe and secure now that you’ve been reunited with them and you allow yourself to relax for the first time in months, giving in to the tendrils of sleep that have been clawing at you for weeks and allowing them to claim you. 

When you wake you’re back in your bed. You groan as you sit up, your bruised muscles protesting the movement as they’re forced to work. You look down at your torso to see that your wounds have been treated and bandaged up, and to the side of you on the ebony dresser you can see a steaming mug of lavender honey tea waiting for you. You let out a hiss as you reach for it, thirst suddenly hitting you in ironic waves as your throat dries up. 

“No love, stay there, I’ll get you it” Jaskier’s voice sounds from somewhere off to the side and he blurs into view as he picks up the mug. He sits on the bed beside you rather than passing you the drink and brings it to your lips for you to sip from.

“How did you manage to time it so well?”

“He didn’t, he’s been running around like a mad man for days to make sure that there was always a fresh cup ready in case you woke up” Geralt’s figure fills up the ensuite doorway as he emerges to answer your question, a soft smile on his handsome features.

You sputter a little as you laugh, the fragrant tea getting trapped slightly in your throat and Jaskier brings a panicked hand to your back to try and coax it out.

“Jask my love, I’m okay, it’s just a cough”

“I know I know, I just….”

“I know” you offer a sad smile to him .

“We missed you angel, so much” Geralt comes to sit at the other side of you wraps one of your hands in both of his.

“Oh I’m sure you both managed to have at least a little bit of fun without me”

They look at each other sheepishly and you smile at their silent admission, loving the red flush of shame and guilt that heats their cheeks.

“Why don’t you show me?”

“What?” Jaskier looks at you with wide eyes not sure if this a trick so that you can punish them both later or if you genuinely want to watch them. Knowing you it’ll be both.

“Are you sure?”

“Are you going to make me ask twice?”

“No ma’am”

You shuffle backwards slightly to allow them both more room while Jaskier sets the mug down on the side before meeting Geralt at the centre of the mattress. It starts off slow and you let out a hum of appreciation as you watch their mouths press together softly. The aristocrat brings a large hand to cup Geralt’s face as he deepens the kiss, the other hand wrapping itself round the silver chain that frames his neck to pull him closer. He lets out a low groan as Jaskier’s tongue slips into his mouth, his own hands now reaching up to rid Jaskier of his clothes. They start to get more frantic now, more animalistic as they undress each other with a desperate need. You watch on in desire as Jaskier’s shirt is torn open, the dark hair contrasting deliciously with the crisp white of the material and you fight the urge to get up from your resting place to run your hands through it. As though reading your mind Geralt brings a rough hand to the do exactly that while pressing open mouthed kisses to his neck, an action that has Jaskier moaning sinful prayers of need. He reaches down to undo his own pants as Geralt keeps up his movements, pulling them roughly down his legs and leaving them in a discarded heap at the foot of the bed.

“Fuck, nearly forgot how much I like watching you two together”

Geralt breaks away to smirk at you and you can see the way his eyes are glittering with lust even from where you’re sat.

“You know you could join in if you wanted to my love, let us show just how much we’ve missed you”

“I could, but then I’d miss the show”

“Do you not want us?” Jaskier looks at you now, his baby blues open wide and his bottom lip stuck out in the most perfect pout you’ve ever seen. Marks litter his neck where Geralt’s mouth had been leading down to the perfectly exposed patch of hair and you let out a low whimper at the sight. 

“I don’t think I could deny you anything with you looking at me like that my little prince. Of course I want you. I will always want you”

He makes his way up the bed until he’s in front of you before capturing your lips in his and you can taste the light sweetness of him mixed with the deep musk of Geralt and it drives you wild. You moan into the kiss and try to grab at his shirt to pull him closer but feel your stitches pulling and you let out a hiss of pain that doesn’t go unnoticed.

“No my love, stay still. Let us come to you”

He gently maneuvers you to the centre of the bed where Geralt waits patiently, slowly removing his clothes as he waits. By the time Jaskier has you laid comfortably Geralt is fully nude and you instinctively gasp as you take in the sight. Geralt takes over from Jaskier so that he too can undress himself, his large body coming to rest over yours as he kisses you. 

“Missed you so much angel, let me take care of you now”

“Missed you too my wolf, I never want to be away from you again”

Soft kisses are pressed to your neck carefully to avoid the still healing burn marks, while his hands trail along your body and come to a rest between your legs.

“Mmf, stop teasing, need you”

“Have you forgotten about me already?” Jaskier’s voice comes from behind Geralt and you let out a soft laugh at how dejected he sounds.

“No my little bird, how could I possibly forget about you? I missed you too, so much”

“I missed you too, we both did. Let us make it all better”

You let out a soft whine as Geralt moves from where he’s perched over you but Jaskier is quick to fill the gap, his mouth moving to where Geralt’s hands were between your legs just moments ago. He nips at the skin of your thighs as softly as he can before moving up to run his tongue through your folds with just enough pressure to have you bucking against his mouth.

“Now now my love, gentle or you’ll hurt yourself”

“Fuck you Geralt, I need more”

“If you’re going to be rude Jaskier here would be happy to stop and I’m sure you wouldn’t want that”

As if to prove a point Jaskier brings his head up from between your thighs and Geralt moves his head down to kiss him and you whine at them both.

“That’s what I thought, now behave”

Jaskier brings his mouth back to where you need it most and you close your eyes as pleasure winds its way into the pit of your stomach.

"Are you just gonna watch my wolf?”

He lets out a low rumble of a laugh before pressing his firm lips against yours, pushing his tongue into your wanting mouth causing you to let out a needy moan at the sensation. As Geralt deepens the kiss you feel Jaskier’s tongue increase in pressure, hitting just the right spots and you feel yourself getting close to your release. Your hand reaches up to tangle in Geralt’s hair to pull him closer, desperate for some kind of anchor to ground you as you float on waves of ecstacy. Your thighs clamp round Jaskier’s head as he flattens his tongue against your sensitive clit and you let out a string of curses into Geralt’s waiting mouth where he eagerly swallows them down, drowning in the taste of your rapture as it spills from your lips. With one final swipe of his tongue Jaskier has you coming undone beneath him, his mouth greedily licking up every drop of arousal from you and he lets out a moan at the taste of you on his tongue.

“Fuck, taste so good my love”

You let out a groan as the adrenaline wears off and you feel the pain of your wounds start to ache again.

“Shit angel, are you okay?" 

"Mmm, that was so good, so good. I’m just very sore still" 

They both move immediately to make you more comfortable, soft kisses being pressed to your temple as they get you rested against the pillows at the head of the bed.

"Thank you. I love you both so much”

“No need to thank us love, we’re just glad to have you back” Jaskier presses a soft kiss to the top of your head as he runs his fingers through your hair.

“Get some rest angel, I’ll get you some more tea”

You let out a sigh of pure bliss as you settle in bed next to Jaskier, head resting against his chest as you start to doze off.


	9. Family Ring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the middle of an interrogation you come up with a unique way of handling things.
> 
> Warnings: usual warnings of violence, blood, torture apply here  
> Word Count: 537
> 
> Obligatory "fuck u stregobor"

“Hey Jask can I borrow your ring?”

“You want to borrow my family ring right now?”

“Yeah!”

“…Fine”

Jaskier reluctantly prise the ring from his finger and hands it to you, dropping it with a heavy thud into your blood spattered palm.

“Thank you my love” your voice is a little too gleeful and even Geralt raises an eyebrow from where he’s stood in the corner.

“What do you want it for?”

You smile as your roll the ring through your fingers, examining the way the light glints off of the raised sigil in the middle with great interest.

“Just wait and see”

You turn and strut towards the seated figure in the centre of the room and you have such a bounce in your step that both men accompanying you exchange worried glances of concern with each other.

“See, I’m not allowed to kill today” you bend so that you’re eye level with the man in the chair, “but I really really want to send a strong message. I’m sure you understand that? Of course you do, it’s what you were here for as well”

He lets out a muffled grunt through the gag in his mouth and you smile sadistically at him in response.

“Anyway pet, as I was saying, I’m not going to kill you. But I will send you back to Stregobor with a few gifts for him”

You slip Jaskier’s ring on to your finger admiring the way the gold sits so proudly against your skin.

“Hmm, it’s too big for me little prince, but it’ll serve its purpose”

Curling your fist you lay in to your captee’s face with vigor, making sure the ring connects with his skull in a new place with each strike. You don’t stop until your hand is dripping with his blood and his face resembles a stamp collectors wet dream. Every inch of his skin is covered in bloodied and bruised Lettenhove sigils and you’re fairly sure you’ve fractured his eye socket as well.

“Listen closely, you can leave now. You don’t stop, you go straight to that son of a whore Stregobor and you let him see who did this to you. And you tell him, tell him I won’t stop until it’s him beneath my fists and the ring that did this is shoved down his throat until he chokes”

You undo his bindings and remove his gag before roughly pulling him from the chair. He takes a look round the room, taking in Geralt’s large stature in the corner as he twirls a dagger almost absentmindedly while Jaskier stands at the opposite side checking his nails as though he’s never been more bored in his life.

“I suggest you run”

At that he does, fleeing the dank room as quickly as he can before you can change your mind.

“Well, that was… Interesting”

“Oh shush my wolf, you had your fun when you came for me, now it’s my turn. You said no killing so I didn’t, not my fault if you weren’t clear enough”

You press a kiss to Jaskier as you pass him his ring back and he groans into your mouth.

“I don’t care what Geralt thinks, that was incredible”


	10. Meetings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're away on a "business trip" so you send the boys a little something to keep them occupied while you're gone
> 
> Warnings: masturbation, semi public masturbation, phone sex, video sex  
> Word Count: 424

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do love me some little smutty drabbles

Jaskier’s bored out of his mind as he’s sat in yet another dull meeting, idly playing with his ring as listens to the incessant drone of his family. The only comfort he has is the warmth of Geralt’s strong body as he stands behind his chair to take up the space the two of you normally occupy.

There’s a soft trill from his phone, the sound he’s set to let him know that you’ve messaged him and he eagerly pulls the device from his pocket. Geralt’s phone let’s out a deep _buzz_ from somewhere above at the same time and both men smile.

Jaskier angles the phone just right so that Geralt can see too before bringing up the notification, a video message with the caption “missing you xo” and he knows he probably shouldn’t open it right now but fuck it this meeting is boring as hell and he misses you.

He _thought_ the volume was turned down on his phone so when your voice crackles to life through the speakers, all low moans and breathy pants and _little prince_ and _wolf_ he’s so shocked he drops the phone with a clatter. He’d barely had time to register what was on the screen, a flash of gold where one of his chains lays around your throat, the white of one of Geralt’s too big shirts framing your otherwise naked body and your fingers pushing in to you at a fevered pace as you call out their names. It’s not much, just a glimpse thanks to his own clumsiness, but it’s enough to have him hard in his trousers.

His face burns red as he retrieves the phone from where it’s fallen before sitting up straight in his chair and ignoring the eyes of everyone in the room as he tries to collect himself.

“Perhaps we should leave, I believe an emergency has just come up?” Geralt leans down to whisper in his ear and the proximity leaves goosebumps in its wake.

“Right, yes” he stands from his chair, turning quickly as he does so to hide the obvious bulge he has, “unfortunately we’ll have to cut this gathering short, another matter has just been brought to my consideration that needs my urgent and undivided attention”

He leaves quickly to murmurs and grunts of disapproval but they quickly quiten down when Geralt shoots them a withering look.

As soon as they’re out of the doors Jaskier turns to Geralt and asks,

“You didn’t open yours did you? Because I need to watch that again”


	11. Valentine's Presents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: The boys get you a present for Valentine’s Day
> 
> Warnings: This one is not as a graphic as usual flowers, but there is mentions of violence, knives, a dead body and mentions of sex  
> Word Count: 1588

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I managed to write a tame piece for these three, go me! Also yes I know I've said tame and dead body and not as graphic all on the same chapter, but what do you expect with these three really?

You emerge from the bathroom leaving a trail of rose scented steam behind you, the thin red material of your gown brushing lightly across your skin as you walk.

“Boys?”

“Finally! You’ve been in there for hours” Geralt smiles as he approaches to press a soft kiss to your cheek and you lean in to the feeling of his lips against you.

“I got you a gift”

“Hmm?”

“For Valentine’s Day”

“You shouldn’t have” you smile as you accept the beautifully carved wooden box he presses into your hands. It feels heavy as you turn it to admire the intricate patterns etched into it and the dark wood shines in the dim light. Roses stem the outside in intertwining patterns, thorns protruding from the vines that surround the center; sat proudly in the middle are two delicate and unique images of a wolf and a small bird. You tilt your head at him as if in question and he lets out a light chuckle.

“Aren’t you going to open it my love?”

His palm comes to rest over your hand as if to help you with the simple task of lifting the lid and you raise an eyebrow at him, perfectly arched in annoyance, that has him laughing yet again as he removes his hand and holds it up defensively.

“I can open a box Geralt, come on”

“You’re taking so long though”

“I’m _admiring_ it! Shouldn’t have made the package so pretty if you didn’t want me to look at it”

“Could say the same to you my love” his eyes rake over you and you shake your head at him.

“Fine fine I’ll open it!”

The lid falls back on its hinges as you push the box open to reveal the interior where plush red velvet lines the dark wood in swathes.

“Geralt…”

“You do like it, don’t you?”

“I… It’s beautiful…”

From where it’s nestled deep within the velvet you pull a solid silver dagger, metal glinting as you lift it from its resting place. The design on the hilt matches that on the box, trails of thorns and roses are embossed along it leading down to the familiar figures of the wolf and the bird, one on each side of the blade. At the very tip of the hilt sits a roughly cut ruby with edges that you’re sure are just as sharp as the knife itself. You play around with the feel of it in your hand to get used to the weight, the way it shifts with each flex of your fingers around it as you play, and you’re shocked to find that somehow despite its lavish appearance it is perfectly balanced. You’re not sure how it’s physically possible, not with it looking so top heavy, but it is. 

Geralt watches as you twirl the blade in practiced hands, loves the way your eyes light up in pure joy and wonder as you do and he can’t help the smile that forms on his lips.

“Geralt, it’s perfect”

“Perfect gift for the perfect girl”

“Oh shut up!”

“As much as I’d like to have you make me, Jask is waiting with his gift for you”

“What?”

“Well, two lovers, two presents”

“But this is more than enough!”

“Just shush and go to the bedroom, you’ll love what he’s got you I promise” you roll your eyes as you go to swat at him with the hilt of your dagger and he easily captures your wrist, using it to pull you close for a heated kiss. Your lips don’t leave his as he drags you to the bedroom in a tangle of limbs as you refuse to let go.

Jaskier lets out a cough of annoyance as you enter the room with your arms and lips still firmly wrapped around Geralt.

“I’m here too you know”

“Well why don’t you join us?” you break the kiss to tease him and Geralt uses the opportunity to pull away and turn you so that you’re planted with your back pressed to his chest and are looking straight at Jaskier.

He’s stood leaning against one of the posts of the bed almost casually; his dark hair is ruffled as though he’s just been running his hands through it and he’s toying with his bottom lip between his teeth as he looks at you. He’s fully dressed, just like Geralt, but the buttons on his shirt are open just enough for a tuft of hair to peak out. The sharp lines of his dark suit enhance the natural contours of his face and you feel your knees go weak as you take him in.

“I mean, if my present is you dressed like this I’m not complaining”

“I know I look good but _how_ did you manage to miss _that_?” he gestures to the back of the bed where a large form is slumped, a bag over its head and arms tied to the rear posts of the frame.

“Oh… Well, can I have both?” you bat your eyelashes at Jaskier and it causes Geralt to let out a snort of amusement as he finally releases you from his grip.

“Such a greedy girl”

“You wouldn’t have it any other way”

“You’re right we wouldn’t”

You move towards Jaskier as he speaks and roughly grab him by the collar to pull him in for a bruising kiss, the hilt of your new blade dangerously close to his neck as it stays clenched in your hand. You press your mouth to his worry bitten lips, tongue battling for dominance with his, until you feel as though you can’t breathe. His back is pressed against the firm post of the bed as your body lines up against his, your hands tangle desperately in his clothes to try and rid him of them and if he wasn’t so well dressed you would just cut them off of him.

“Slow down angel” Geralt’s lips press to your neck and his hands come to yours to remove them from Jaskier, “you’ve not actually opened your present yet”

“What do you think I’m trying to do?”

There’s another chuckle from both men at your enthusiasm.

“Not Jask”

“But…” you pout at them both as they maneuver you easily between the two of them to allow Jaskier to move from his predicament.

“After, my love, no need to be so impatient”

They both move to stand at the head of the bed, one on each side, as they gesture for you to make your way up and remove the hood from the mystery figure.

“Don’t you want to try out Geralt’s gift?”

“Rather use it one of you…”

“Stop being petulant, it’s not a good look on you”

“Everything is a good look on me” you roll your eyes again but this time you move to join them at the head of the bed. 

You let out a sigh as you move to take the hood off of the figure, but stop before you do as you become acutely aware of the slump of its posture and the lack of tension on the bindings. 

“Did you already kill them?” 

“What? No?”

“Well I hate to break it you then, because they are definitely dead”

At that Jaskier rips the hood off in one quick movement and lets out a groan of frustration when he sees that you’re right. There’s a trail of froth leading from the corner of the man’s mouth and down his chin and his bulging eyes are already beginning to cloud over with the colour of death.

“Shit”

“Is that Zavist?”

“Yeah… thought we might be able to get some information on Stregobor from him”

“No wonder he took the cowards way out”

You move to sit at the center of the bed as the two men set to work disposing of the body quickly to make sure that there are no traces of death left in your shared bed. You idly twirl your new blade as they work, running the sharpened ruby along your skin until it leaves harsh red marks in its wake. You’re not really thinking as you play so when you look down to see that you’ve traced a J and a G onto your body you let out a little huff of amusement. Of course they’ll like that. But not as much as the present you’ve got for them. You lean over to the bedside table to retrieve it ready for when they come back from their disposal errand.

“Fuck, we need to be more careful next time” Jaskier’s voice brings you back from your thoughts and you smile up at him, watching as Geralt appears over his shoulder. There are a few more grunts of complaint from them as they settle down on the bed next to you and Jaskier apologies for ruining your gift as he rests his head on your shoulder.

“It’s ok little prince, accidents happen. Besides, you two still have your present from me, remember?”

“You didn’t need to get us a present!” 

“It was no bother, really”

You smile as you show them what you have for them, a small purple card with golden embossing in the shape of gooseberries on it.

“Is that?”

“An invitation from the Vengerbergs, yes”

“But how?”

“Yennefer owed me one”

“You know Yennefer?”

“Geralt does too” Jaskier looks at you in shock, his mouth hanging open with no sound coming out while Geralt smirks at you, “It’s tomorrow night my loves, usual rules apply”


	12. Savage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier is in a possessive mood and has a bit of fun with you in public while Geralt stands guard
> 
> Warnings:oral (m receiving), public sex, gagging/choking, daddy kink, lots of dirty talk  
> Word Count: 605

You’re on your knees in the back of a seedy club, Jaskier’s pants round his ankles as you choke down his cock. It’s a good job you have Geralt with you to offer some kind of protection from the glances of anyone who walks past, because if you’re honest you’re not exactly hidden or being discreet.

One of Jaskier’s hands is gripping your hair at the roots as he bobs your head, taking his pleasure directly from you rather than waiting for you to give it to him. The noises coming from you are obscene as you try to swallow him down, gagging hard as he roughly thrusts deep into the back of your throat; tears leak from the corners of your eyes as spit and precome runs down your chin

“Such a good girl for Daddy aren’t you, love being on your knees for everyone to see like the little slut you are. Might let Geralt have a go when I’m done with you too”

You can see Geralt’s figure shift out of the corner of your eye, his large frame jostling as he adjusts his stance slightly. He lets out a soft growl as he does so, clearly annoyed that he’s having to stand and keep watch rather than joining in.

“Now now my love, you can have your turn next, I’m sure she’ll still be ready to go” 

His grip tightens in your hair as he pushes himself deeper yet and you let out a choked sob, the vibrations reverberating round his thick length and causing a groan to fall from him.

“Got such a good mouth, look at you choking on me like the whore you are, look so fucking beautiful”

His words are coming out fast as he keeps his pace and you peek up at him through tear stained lashes. His head is splayed back, resting against the cold concrete of the wall that he’s stood against, chest rising and falling rapidly as he heads towards his release. The dim lighting of the club catches the gold chain round his neck as it moves with each breath he takes, nestled perfectly against the dark curls of his chest. He looks utterly sinful from where you are; cheeks red, eyes closed and his bottom lip gripped between his teeth as he bites back the noises of pleasure that you’re pulling from him.

Nails dig into his thighs where your hands are resting, a pinch of pain amidst the pleasure and he can’t help the small groan you illicit with the action. 

“Fuck, keep that up and I’m gonna come in that pretty little mouth of yours”

Spurred on by his praise you drag your nails downwards leaving long red streaks in their wake, you only wish that they were sharper so that you could leave some real damage behind as you continue your movements. You press harder, desperate to please the man towering over you as your tongue tries its best to work along the cock that’s still halfway down your throat.

“Shit, that’s it, right there Princess” 

He sputters out praise as your nails dig in harder and with a final thrust of his hips he spills his come inside of you, already so deep in your mouth that it goes straight down your throat.

“Fuck, you’re such a good girl for me” 

He continues to praise you as he helps you up before pulling you in for a deep kiss, his bruise bitten lips prying yours open so that he can taste himself on you.

“Mmm, so good for me. Why don’t you show Geralt just how good?”


	13. Worship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based off of the anon prompt- Jaskier would probably tie you up, fuck you really roughly and when you moan oh my god", he'd grab your face so it'd hurt and and growl "I'm your god". And the he'd probably spit in your mouth. (I want this please I'm going to cry)
> 
> Warnings: this is pure porn, rope play, bondage, choking, dirty talk, cum play (implied) and spitting. Not for the faint of heart. You have been warned. 18+ only as with all chapters.  
> Word Count: 911

He has you on your back, hands tied above your head; the red of the rope glints in the low light as you pull against your binds which are tightened just past the point of where pleasure becomes pain. Your legs are thrown over his shoulders leaving you utterly helpless and open to him just the way he likes it. He’s thrusting at a frantic pace, his hips already beginning to bruise you as he relentlessly fucks into you.

“Look at the camera sweetheart, let Geralt see how pretty you look underneath me”

He shoves your head to the side roughly, one hand wrapped around your jaw and the other between your legs resting just shy of where you most want it. Your eyes connect with the blinking red dot where his phone is sat on the dresser recording and you let out a low groan at the realisation. He chuckles lowly as he feels you clench as soon as you see the camera; each thought passing through your head, the need to be seen by Geralt as he fucks into you, displayed openly on your sweat slick skin as he looks down at you.

“Tell him how good you’ve been for me while he’s been away”

"So good my prince, so so good”

“Now tell him exactly how it feels to have my cock in you, just in case he’s forgotten” he’s smirking at you as he speaks, his handsome features painted with the sharp colour of arrogance and it has you nearly coming right then and there. _Gods does he wear it well_. 

“Jask-” it’s all you manage to get out before his hand slips lower to frame your throat and he squeezes hard, so hard that the air is cut from you and you’re left choking on the nothingness that envelopes your lungs.

“What was that, I didn’t hear you” he growls at you as though he’s not the one who trapped the words where they fell wantingly from your mouth in your desperation to please him. He shifts as he speaks, his other hand finally moving to swipe a thumb harshly just once across your swollen clit and you arch your back in pleasure at his touch. He can feel you under him, so desperate and needy and positively _dripping_ with sin and it sparks something even more feral and primitive within him. Tears start to form in your eyes from the pain, welling up until everything is a blur of sex and lust and pain and _he_ is all that you can feel.

“Be a good fucking slut for me, show Geralt how well you take my cock”

He finally releases your throat and you gasp in sharply, the sudden rush of air leaving a burning trail in its wake as it settles in your chest and you can finally breathe again. You can tell by how raw it feels that the purple blue hue of pain in the shape of fingers will be there to greet you come morning.

You arch up again as you feel him swipe his thumb across you with more pressure and this time a whine falls from the back of your throat as you beg for more, more of anything that he is willing to give you.

“So needy for me aren’t you? Such a good girl”

“Yes, Jask, my prince, fuck, please”

“Please what pretty girl? Use your words. You know I love to hear you beg for me”

“Need more, need you, fuck-” your words die in a moan as he presses against you again; he’s not soft or gentle, instead he roughly manhandles you as he picks up the pace and relentlessly brushes back and forth with the rough pad of his thumb until you’re a writhing moaning mess underneath him, clinging to him just enough to keep your release at bay until he permits it.

“ _Oh my god_ ”

“ _ **I am your god**_ ” he snarls the words at you, pure filth and possession and truth, as his large hand comes to grip your jaw like a vice, prying it open as he forces you to look him in the eye before he viciously spits straight into your open mouth. It’s absolutely filthy and you can feel the velvet heat of him dance across your tongue so deliciously that you nearly come right then and there.

“That’s it, swallow me down while I fuck you. Take all of me. Gonna come for me? Show us both what a little slut you are?”

It’s all the encouragement you need and you feel the swirl of pleasure that’s been gathering in the pit of your stomach finally explode. It’s white hot as it courses through you and you cry out at the fire that sweeps through you, moans punctuated by desperate gasps of Jaskier’s name as he fucks you through your orgasm in desperate pursuit of his own. He grasps at you tighter than you thought possible, rutting into you frantically until you feel him stutter to a halt as he comes while he’s buried deep within you, painting your insides with thick hot ropes of his come.

He doesn’t give you any time to recover before he’s pulling out of you in one fluid motion and reaches for the phone on the dresser.

“Time to roll over and on to your knees sweetheart, gotta get some close ups of that wrecked little pussy of yours for Geralt to enjoy”


	14. Car Sex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a little bit of fun on the way to the airport!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: this is pwp, threesome, sex in a vehicle, exhibitionism/voyeurism if you squint, fingering, oral sex.
> 
> Word Count: 2680

You’re all sat in the back of the car that the Vengerbergs had arranged for you, heading leisurely to the airport to catch the flight out for your meeting.

Jaskier is on your left with his phone pressed to his ear as he discusses some important investment with whoever is on the other end of the phone. He’s staring out of the dark tinted window as he raises his voice and gesticulates wildly, so you turn your attentions to where Geralt is sitting on your other side. His eyes are focused downwards on a book that he’s reading and you can see a gentle smile tugging on his lips as he finds a particularly amusing line. Your eyes rake over him as you shift in your seat slightly; his silver is tied back in a neat bun with a few loose strands falling to frame his handsome face and you let out a little sigh of appreciation.

“I can feel you staring at me you know”

Geralt’s eyes flick up to find yours and he smirks at you, it’s wet and dangerous and if you were a less bold woman it would have you flushed with embarrassment and curling into your seat for safety.

“Am I not allowed to enjoy what I see?” you quip back with a wicked grin of your own.

“Well that depends, my love, just how much are you enjoying it?”

“Why don’t you put that book down and I’ll show you?”

The book is set to one side quickly as he slams the pages shut and beckons you to move closer to him. Neither of you spare Jaskier a thought as you crawl on to Geralt’s lap and straddle him, confident that the black barrier of glass that separates you from the driver is keeping your movements hidden and that Jaskier himself is too wrapped up in his work to notice.

“So, angel, wanna tell me what it was that had you staring at me like that?” his lips are against your neck as he murmurs and you shift on his lap to try and bring him closer.

“Just appreciating the view”

“Hmm, and what is there to appreciate?”

“I appreciate the fall of your hair, the curve of your lips, the line of your jaw…” you press a soft kiss to each of his features as you list them, slowly moving your mouth down his body, “the strength of your shoulders, the soft skin of your neck…” and with that you press an open mouthed kiss to his pulse point, sucking and licking the delicate skin before nipping at him with your teeth, and he lets out a low groan. You start to move your hips as your teeth sink into his neck, hands resting on the seat either side of his head to keep you steady.

He brings one of his hands down to in between your legs and roughly presses his fingers against your clothed core as you keep rocking against him, and now it’s your turn to let out a whine. 

“It’s a good job you’re wearing a dress, my love, makes for easy access” the words are a whisper as he pushes your underwear to one side so that he has free access to your already wet cunt, “jesus you weren’t joking about enjoying the view were you?”

“It’s not my fault, we never get to have fun like this because you’re always the one driving” you pout at him as he presses a finger into you slowly and deliberately, until it’s down to the knuckle, and you let out another high whine from the back of your throat.

“Shh angel, you wouldn’t want to distract our prince from his work would you? Be good for me”

“But Geralt-” he silences your protests with a harsh kiss, simultaneously slipping another finger into your tight heat at the same time and you buck against him at the feeling.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you both still your movements at Jaskier’s yell; slowly you turn your head to look at him to see if the anger is directed at you only to find he’s still looking out of the window while on the phone.

“Gonna have to move slower, my wolf" 

"As you wish my love” he keeps his movements slow as he pumps his fingers into you, the heel of his palm pressing deliciously against your already sensitive clit with each thrust and you try your best to swallow down the moans that are threatening to escape your lips.

“Geralt, baby, this doesn’t seem very fair…" 

"What more could you want, sweetheart?" 

You don’t answer him, instead opting to show him. You trail your hand down from its resting place beside his head, slowly running your nails along his shirt until you reach the cool metal of his belt, "help me take it off my love, then you can see exactly what I want” you purr the words into his ear as he brings his free hand to immediately help you with the buckle.

“Fuck princess” his words are a quiet hiss as you grab greedily at him, hand quick to free him from the confines of his pants so that he’s resting in your palm. He’s hard, impossibly so, and you groan at the sight of his red tip leaking with precome for you already.

“I’ve not even started yet, my love, and you’re already so needy for me”

“I’m not the only one” he grinds his palm down harder on you, enough to have you clenching tightly around his fingers, and he grins at you smugly. Rather than reply with a witty retort, you decide to use his own tactics against him and you roughly fist his thick length in your palm. It only takes a few strokes to have him swearing softly under his breath and now it’s your turn to flash him a shit eating grin as you jerk him, “carry on like that and I won’t last long, fuck” he growls low and heavy and oh so hot.

“Oh my wolf, who says I want you to last? You asked me what more I wanted- it’s this. I want to see you come undone for me. Right here in front of Jaskier while he’s too busy to even notice”

“You’re downright cruel, you know that right?” the words are soft hushes as his lips ghost across your skin and goosebumps erupt along where each whispered consonant has been.

“You wouldn’t have it any other way”

“You’re right, I wouldn’t. But don’t forget, sweetheart, that I can be cruel too” you gasp a little too loudly as he clamps his teeth straight down onto the prominent ridge of your neck muscle; it’s deep and painful and sure to bruise, and it has you absolutely wild with desire for him. It’s enough to have you almost blacking out as the pain and pleasure collides, all of your senses dulled as your body focuses on the joint movement of Geralt’s mouth and hand as he works your body expertly.

You’re so focused on the way that Geralt’s handling you that you fail to notice that Jaskier has caught your view in the tinted reflection of the window, too wrapped up in the way your body is responding to observe that he’s finished his phone call and has instead turned his attentions to you. So when a ring studded hand grabs your jaw harshly and turns it towards him you can’t help but let out a cry of surprise.

“Well, what have we got here?” Jaskier’s tone is playful as he tightens his grip and you bat your eyes at him in response, “couldn’t manage an hour long car journey?”

“To be fair, she made a very valid point” Geralt defends your actions as he continues to curl his fingers into you, maddeningly slow with his movements, “we do never get to do this because I’m always driving”

“And you were going to exclude me?” his baby blue eyes are wide, his bottom lip stuck out in a perfect pout that he knows will have you melting for him. The hand gripping your jaw moves to gently cup your cheek and you lean in to his touch.

“No baby, we would never, we were just having a bit of fun while you were busy. Why don’t you let me make it up to you?” you wet your lips, looking down to the obvious tent in his pants.

“You are fucking insatiable, I swear”

“Shut up and fuck me, Geralt, I know you want to” you don’t wait for a response as you lift your hips up so that his fingers fall from there place within you, your arousal clinging to the digits and coating them with slick as you move. You twist your body so that you’re no longer straddling Geralt’s large frame, instead your bent over so that your ass is in his lap, your body running the length of the backseat, and your head resting on Jaskier’s thigh as you look up at him.

“As nice as this view is, I’m not sure exactly how this makes up for so blatantly disregarding me” Jaskier’s eyes twinkle with mischief as he teases you, the blue pools gradually darkening as his eyes rake along your disheveled clothing and finally down to where your ass is proudly stuck in the air above Geralt’s thick legs.

“Well my prince, how would you like me to make it up to you?” you nuzzle your face against his clothed cock, eliciting a low groan from him in response, “gonna let me show you how good I can be?”

“What did you have in mind?”

“Let me put my mouth to work, show you how an apology should really feel. Please?”

“How could I refuse an offer like that, my love?” he hums the words as he reaches down, the back of his hand softly caressing the heated skin of your cheek as he loosens his pants. As he works to release himself from the confines of his trousers you feel Geralt shift beneath you, lifting you up with ease to slide his large frame out from under you and instead coming to rest behind your spread legs, hands settling round your waist to draw you closer to him.

“Baby, fuck, Geralt” you mewl, head thrown back and waist dipped low beneath his hands as he pushes into you in one swift motion. He lets out a deep growl as he bottoms out, a raw animalistic sound that has you whimpering beneath his touch. Jaskier takes the opportunity to wrap his fingers around the now exposed column of your throat, holding you in place with soft practiced hands.

“You’re gonna have to be real quiet while we do this, sweetheart, though I don’t think that’ll be much of a problem”

You look at him as you open your mouth, eyes and lips forming perfect O shapes as your eyes connect with his. You make a show of letting your tongue fall from your mouth and drag along your lower lip, wetting it just enough, before sticking it out as far as you can.

“Fuck angel, better use that tongue just as good on my cock” he doesn’t wait for a response, instead he pushes straight into your mouth while keeping his grip on your neck steady. It doesn’t take long for him to hit the back of your throat, the taste of salt and musk coating your tongue and cheeks as he takes ownership of your mouth. They begin to move in unison, Geralt’s thrusts timed perfectly with Jaskier’s as they fuck into you, using your body to draw their pleasure from while making sure to give you your own. You can feel the way your walls clench round Geralt with each movement and you try to ignore it, instead focusing on running your tongue along the underside of Jaskier’s cock as best you can. 

“I don’t think I’m gonna last long if you keep that up sweetheart, shit, really is one hell of an apology you’re giving me. Want me to come in that sweet little mouth of yours, my love?”

“I think that’s a yes” Geralt gasps as you tighten round him at the thought of swallowing Jaskier down, full of need and desire to feel him dripping down your throat, “shit Jask, ‘mm not gonna last long either”

“Better make sure our angel has come at least once then before we give her what she wants” Jaskier’s grip tightens on your throat, harsh enough that the heavy metal of his rings cuts into the soft flesh beneath them; it’s clearly painted across your face just how much you’re enjoying it, and though you can’t speak your expression says it all- tears just beginning to gather on your lower lashes, spit gathering at the corner of your mouth, and eyes so full of adoration for the two men it rivals any declaration of love that could ever be spoken. As Jaskier increases the pressure round your throat Geralt reaches beneath you to brush one of his still wet fingers along your sensitive clit, relishing the way his touch has you arching your back again for him. Each press of their fingers has heat coursing through you, flooding right from your throat to settle in the pit of your stomach, wave after wave of unbridled pleasure that leaves you weak beneath them as you reach your peak. You come without making a sound, moan catching in your throat unable to push past the intrusion of Jaskier’s thickness that’s filling your mouth, and they feel you go limp beneath them. The only thing keeping you from falling to the seat are the strong hands Geralt has wrapped round your waist, and Jaskier’s firm grip on your throat as they hold you up. It doesn’t take long, a few more thrusts from them, before you find yourself being filled to the brim with come. You swallow down as much as you can, tongue still eager to please despite your body being wrecked, and you lap up every last drop as Jaskier praises you.

“Such a good girl, you did so well. If you’re gonna treat me that well afterwards you can owe me more apologies in future” he whispers the words as he holds you, peppering soft kisses to every inch of bare skin he can reach, while behind you you can feel Geralt gently cleaning up the mess that’s trailing down your thighs.

“Gonna need to get dressed angel, won’t be long now til we’re at the airport. Do you need any help?” you find yourself being passed into Geralt’s arms as Jaskier takes his turn to clean up and make himself presentable; his arms encircle you and pull you to his chest where he holds you, lips caressing the skin of your cheek as he plants a gentle kiss to your face, “c’mon sweetheart, help me out a bit here”

“I’m okay, thank you my love, just needed a minute” you smile brightly up at him as you regain your composure, “like you said earlier, good job I’m wearing a dress” He chuckles at that before pressing a kiss to the top of your head, holding you close as you rearrange your outfit to hide any traces of what you’d just been doing. With a few passes of your hands along the material of your dress and a hasty tug at the neckline you settle in against his chest, head pressed against his shoulder as you relax. Jaskier reaches a hand out to intertwine with yours, bringing it to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles, before coming to sit on the other side of you. You close your eyes as you rest safe between the two of them, content to rest for whatever remains of your car journey, basking in the glow of love that you feel radiating like a blanket of comfort from the two men at your side.


	15. Vengerberg Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: You infiltrate a sex party to try and get more information on Stregobor, what could go wrong?  
> Word Count: approx 1.6k  
> Warnings: implied human trafficking, mentions of alcohol and drugs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long, I promise you will have a lot of updates soon!  
> This is more of a filler chapter as well but I hope that you enjoy it :)

“This isn’t what I had in mind when you said we’d be attending” Jaskier huffs as he takes in your attire, the sordid combination of black leather and latex accented by silver chains that adorns your body, and rolls his eyes. Geralt’s not dressed much better; a thick leather collar wraps round his neck with a silver ring hanging invitingly from the center, and you know that underneath his coat he’s wearing practically nothing aside from a stunningly well fitted pair of shorts that you’d picked out for him.

“Oh hush darling, don’t pretend that you don’t know what a Vengerberg party entails”

“If we stick to the plan we’ll be fine” Geralt’s voice is low as you approach the long sweeping drive that leads to the familiar sight of the Vengerberg residence. The dark black leaves of the cherry plums lining the gravel pathway are adorned with bursts of bright violet from the thousands of fairy lights strung along them, small beacons to guide you towards the towering spires ahead. You hear Geralt swallow thickly at your side, no doubt feeling the same creeping sense of unease that you do at the thought of being back here and seeing Yennefer again after all of this time. 

A light touch of your hand on his seems to bring him out of his head and back to you and you offer him a reassuring smile, “we don’t have to do this, sweetheart, we can still turn around and walk away”

“I’m fine” his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes when he replies, “it’s only for a few hours anyway”

You’re about to ask again, reassure him that it’s okay, you’ll find another way to get the information, but you stop short when you realise you’ve already reached the heavy set wooden door of the entrance. It’s as intimidating as you remember; dark wood, thick and heavy, with wrought iron fixings and a solid door knocker that’s decorated with the signature pattern of lilac and gooseberries. Geralt wastes no time in grabbing it, three angry thuds sounding against the solid surface to signify your arrival. 

It’s only a matter of mere seconds before it’s swung open and you’re greeted by the sound of the party in full swing; loud chatter and thrumming bass flood your ears, and the fetid smell of alcohol tinged debauchery winds through the air so thick it’s almost visible.

“Darlings, hello! Right on time of course” the sharp trill of Yennefer’s voice reaches you before you see her, and you notice Geralt tense slightly out of the corner of your eye as he prepares to see her for the first time in five years. Jaskier isn’t faring much better and you can feel him nervously drumming his fingers where they rest on your waist.

“Yennefer!” your smile is as warm as your voice as you see her come into view. She’s just as beautiful as ever, her dark hair pulled up into an elaborate updo adorned with delicate diamonds, her lips painted red and her dress a long flowing gown of black and white layered chiffon.

“Y/N, oh how lovely to see you again” as she gets closer you pick up the ever so familiar scent that you’re so accustomed to, it clouds around you until it’s all there is as she pulls you in for a hug and presses a soft kiss to your cheek.

“Thank you so much for the invitation” Jaskier’s voice sounds cool on the surface and you’re sure that anyone less attuned to him wouldn’t hear the notes of anxiety playing underneath. You’d have to ask him about that later.

“Hmm, hello Yennefer” Geralt’s reaction is a little frosty, “how’s Istredd?” If she’s upset by his greeting she doesn’t let on, instead she pulls him in for a hug that he protests at first until he no longer can. 

“Oh he’s fine, thank you, not here tonight unfortunately. This” she gestures around, “isn’t really his thing. It seems like it certainly is yours though” she smiles fondly as she lets him go and he seems to have finally relaxed, settling in to stand between you and Jaskier.

She takes a step back so that she can see the three of you, “So you have a plan? I assume so or you wouldn’t be here”

“It’s a blind auction at the end of the night like usual, right? I can see the” Jaskier coughs awkwardly, “ _lots_ , and bid. Nobody knows who’s bidding, highest bidder wins?”

“I see you remember the rules, which means you’ll also remember that these two _darlings_ will need to mingle” she smirks when she sees the scowl Jaskier is wearing at the thought of others touching what is his, “I’ll leave you to it” and with that she shoots a wink directly at you before flouncing away.

“Let’s get this over with then” Jaskier growls as he slings his arm over your shoulder protectively, his eyes boring into the faces of anyone who dares to look at you for too long, “this better go fast.”

It’s a pretty simple process the three of you have once you get started; the majority of the bidders are drunk or high out of their minds which makes it easy for you. It’s easy enough, the rich fuckers are quick enough to grab at you, sneering at you and Geralt as they ask for _a test drive of the goods_ , and once you have them alone you pin them down- the quick draw of a blade hidden in one of your boots, the rough hand Geralt has gripping their hair and the sharp hiss of a whispered threat has loose tongues wagging in each and every one of them, yet you’re unable to recover the information you need. Not due to lack of trying, no, it seems like your intel had been wrong, nobody knew anything about Stregobor. Jaskier isn’t faring much better himself as he tries his own tactics on the other “lots”, hoping that while they’re away from the usual cruelties of such affairs and being treated with some kindness for once they might crack; although they’re eager to talk to him, none can provide any information.

You’ve made your way through roughly two thirds of the guest list by the time the bidding is called and you watch as Jaskier leaves to make his way to the auction room.

“Fucking waste of time”

“Jaskier might have found something, you never know” your voice is hopeful, “we’ll find out soon enough. Besides, it’s not been a total waste of time… You know I like watching you when you work. I promise to show you just how much the second we’re done with this”

“I suppose you’re right, not a total waste” he smiles, “I could the same to you”

“Oh don’t think I haven’t noticed, I know that’s not a gun in your pocket"

He’s about to respond, his face just in front of yours and a teasing glint in his eye but you’re interrupted by one of the event stewards ushering you towards a private room. 

“Come on, let’s go see Jaskier and we can finish our conversation there” your hands run across the bare expanse of his chest before hooking a finger through his collar and pulling him along behind you.

The second you’re through the door you’re all over each other, hands grasping onto any patch of exposed skin they can find, teeth and tongue clashing as you kiss messily, fire flooding through you both as you can finally enjoy yourselves.

“Should we wait for-”

“No he’ll be here any second”

“You’re right”

“Fuck, Geralt” you whine as he pins you against the wall, legs wrapping round his waist to pull him closer before pulling him in for another heated kiss.

“Ahem” the sound of someone clearing their throat stops you in your tracks.

“I think you’ve got the wrong room” Geralt doesn’t even turn around as he speaks, instead he keeps his focus on you.

“I’m exactly where I want to be, Geralt” you can see the confusion on his face as he gently sets you down, making sure to keep himself between you and the newcomer as best as he can as he turns to them.

“You” Geralt’s voice is measured as he takes in the figure that is most decidedly not Jaskier, and he takes a step forward as he assesses the potential threat.

“Careful there mate, don’t do anything you might regret” another silhouette appears from the doorway, one you know all too well, and you take an involuntary step towards it as though to make sure you’re not seeing things. You instinctively place yourself between Geralt and the newcomer as you really survey them, taking in the familiar features as they come into view.

“Shelley?” 

“Hello love, it’s been a while” his smirk causes Geralt to bristle behind you. 

“Where’s Jaskier?”


	16. Reunions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few more truths are brought to light...
> 
> Word Count: 1.4k
> 
> Warnings: violence, blood, mentions of alcohol

“Your precious Jaskier is fine, he should be in any moment” Shelley sneers as his eyes bore into Geralt and it has hot threads of anger needling under your skin, “in the meantime I think we have something to discuss”

“No. We don’t. I have nothing to say to you”

“Well, we have something to say to you” the petite figure in front of Shelley speaks as she moves further towards where you and Geralt are standing and again you can feel him bristle behind you. She keeps her movements slow and calculated as though she knows that one wrong move could have either of you lunging at her. 

“What do you want, Renfri?” there’s disdain laced in each syllable that Geralt speaks as he addresses her, the words being spat out like acid.

“Straight to business, no time for an old friend? I know Shelley has a lot he’d like to say to your companion there, and I can think of a couple of ways we could catch up” the way she laughs as though it’s the funniest thing she’s ever heard has pure rage flooding through you, you barely manage to bite back the snarl that rises in your throat, “oh I see why you like her, she’s a feisty one”

This time you don’t bother holding it back, within mere seconds your blade is freed from its resting place in your boot, the metal cool fits snugly in your heated palm as you attack; you see the warmth in Renfri’s eyes harden as you do, shock marring her pretty features as you pin her to the wall in one fluid movement with your knife pressed to her throat. Behind you you’re vaguely aware of Geralt shifting to put himself between you and Shelley, despite being unarmed he makes for an imposing figure as he takes up your defense.

If Renfri’s scared she doesn’t show it, her angular jaw is jutted in defiance as she locks eyes with you and she breaks out into a smirk that mirrors your own as you stare each other down. 

“You know me, Shelley, so you know I will not hesitate to kill her if you don’t tell me what you’re doing here right fucking now” 

“We want the same thing you do, okay?”

“I don’t believe you” you press the blade harder against Renfri’s neck and revel at the single drop of blood that falls from the incision, a lone track of red signifying your intent, “try again”

“Look, I’m telling the truth, we need to get to Stregobor”

Another press of your knife and Renfri lets out a grunt of pain, small, but enough for you to feel the satisfying twist of arousal deep in your stomach that comes with the joy of inciting fear. 

“Well that was a waste of time!” Jaskier’s voice breaks through the tension in the room as he stumbles through the door finally, too focused on the drink he’s nursing in his hand to pay attention to what he just walked into.

“Jaskier. Stay there. Don’t move” Geralt’s voice is low and calm as he instructs him.

“What….”

“It’s fine, sweetheart, as you can see we have this under control”

“Why does that man look like an unkempt version of me?” Jaskier’s words are a little slurred due to the amount of alcohol he’s imbibed and you’re sure if you were any closer to him you’d be able to scent the warm spice of scotch clinging to him. Shit, this was going to be hard to explain, “and why are you pinning this gorgeous woman to a wall? Should I be jealous?”

“Why don’t you come here and find out?” Renfri teases from beneath you, pretty face back in a smirk, and again you lose your temper. This time you bring the gem encrusted hilt of the knife up and slam it into the side of her face hard enough that it has her gasping and stumbling slightly from the impact. 

“Shut the fuck up, or next time it’ll be harder”

“Please don’t. I’m telling you the truth, let her go. We can be civil about this”

“What the _fuck_ do you know about telling the truth, Shelley?”

“You two know each other?” you growl at Jaskier’s question, the final drop of your patience running away from you just like the blood dripping down Renfri’s neck as you see red. You’re barely aware of your actions as you let her go and instead whirl round to face Shelley. Years of rage spur you on and before Geralt can realise to stop you you’ve stormed past and towards Shelley.

“Ten years you’ve been gone. Ten fucking years you’ve let me think you were fucking dead. And you have the goddamn audacity to swan in here and talk to me about truth? Fuck. You.” 

“Y/N-”

“Save it, I’m not interested, you’re as good as dead to me anyway. We’ll speak to the girl. You speak again and _I will kill you_ ” his eyes go wide when he realises you’re not joking and you take a sick sense of satisfaction in the fear you see reflected in the blue pools as he backs away in submission. 

Geralt tilts his head to look at you and throws you a look that you know means ‘we’ll talk about this later’ and you meet his gaze with your own, eyebrow cocking as you do in the exact same meaning, before gesturing to Renfri with your head. He gets your meaning, you’ve dealt with Shelley and now he has to handle her while you get Jask sat down.

“What do you want with Stregobor?” 

“We want to kill him” Renfri practically sings the words as though she’s bursting with joy, “we heard that you wanted to as well. You’ve not exactly kept a low profile searching for him you know”

“We weren’t trying to” you spit back, unable to contain your hatred enough to let Geralt continue his conversation, “I want the bastard to know”

“Then we want the same thing”

“Why? Why do you want to kill Stregobor?”

“The same reason you do”

“I doubt that _very_ much”

“Ladies-”

“Jaskier do not start right now, sit down and be quiet”

“You haven’t changed at all have you?”

“Shelley what the _fuck_ did I say about speaking again?”

“Everyone shut up” Geralt’s voice booms loud and clear and the room falls silent instantly at his command, “Renfri, tell us exactly why you’re here. Clear and precise. Everyone else keep quiet, yes, even you sweetheart” he meets your glower with a soft smile.

“He killed my family, every single one of them, slaughtered. I want revenge” her voice is even and unemotional, she even shrugs, as though she’s talking about the weather and not the death of her loved ones.

“And Shelley?”

“Hired protection, just like the two of you”

“Why do you need us?”

“You know what- no, Geralt, please don’t give me that look- I don’t care. You want to help, fine. Tell us what you know about his location and we’ll handle it”

“We could come with you?”

“Too much of a liability, especially him” you gesture at Shelley who’s staring at you intently, his lips formed as though he’s ready to provide a million excuses that you just don’t want to hear. 

“Fine, from what we know he’s hiding, laying low out in New London. He has a base of operations out there and we’ve been tracking him for a while. But there’s just the two of us, that’s not enough”

“Do you have exact locations?”

“Everything we have is on this” Renfri fumbles around for a second in her jeans pocket before pulling out a usb stick that she shows to you, “all of it, it’s yours if you want it”

Geralt approaches slowly and accepts it from her, the tiny device nestled safely in his palm, “how do we know we can trust you?” 

“You know me, Geralt, you know you can” Jaskier steps back at that, shock visible on his face as he finally makes the connection.

“Oh, loves, have you both been keeping secrets from me?”

“Jask we can talk about this later, now is not the time”

The tension hangs heavy in the air as you all weigh up your next moves, you desperately want to sit down and discuss this with Geralt and Jaskier but you can’t while you have guests present, and you’re not quite sure what to do with them. You look to Geralt in silent question and he meets your eyes, giving a slight nod that you know means he trusts them. 

“Jask, take their numbers and we can look into this and contact them if we need anything more. We’ll head out tomorrow morning”


	17. Ultimatum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens when you're caught unaware and forced to make horrible choice?
> 
> Warnings: violence, guns, CHARACTER DEATH

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry

Jaskier whimpers as the gun presses harsh and cold to his temple, and you swear you can see the faint sparkle of tears beginning to well in his eyes.

“Lower the weapons, both of you. Wolf, sit on that chair. Slowly!”

You snarl as you drop your gun to the floor with a clatter, eyes still trained on where Jaskier is knelt between two large men clad in black. You’d been ambushed, caught unaware, and they’d managed to grab hold of him before you realised what was happening.

Geralt grunts as he sits where he’s told. He doesn’t so much as flinch when the man behind him strikes him hard on the back of the head with the butt of his gun. His eyes also trained on Jaskier’s figure and he doesn’t break away despite the blood that’s already started to pool in his hair.

“Your turn now. You’ve got a choice to make” the man with the gun addresses you and you finally break your gaze away from Jaskier to meet his.

“What?”

“Either kill him” he gestures towards where Geralt is sat, “or we kill this one”

Geralt can see the way your body stiffens, the way your pulse is hammering in your ears as you realise the impossible decision that awaits you. He knows that your eyes are scanning the room as you panic, that you’re weighing up any possible outcome that will have you all survive, and he knows you’ll fall short.

“It’s ok, sweetheart, look at me, angel, look at me” his voice is calm and measured, no trace of fear as he calls to you. There’s a slight tremble to your movements as you tear your eyes away from Jaskier and over to where he’s sat. His face is as calm as his voice, no tension anywhere as he gestures for you to move towards him.

“I refuse. I choose myself, let them go and you can have me”

“That wasn’t an option. Refuse and we kill them both”

You look back to where Geralt is sat and you can feel the lump forming in your throat as you realise what you have to do. He smiles at you softly, nods his head just once in encouragement, and you begin to move towards him.

“Y/N no, no you can’t. Let them kill me” Jaskier’s voice is thin and hoarse as he watches the way you approach Geralt. He can see the intent etched into each step and the look on Geralt’s face tells him all he needs to know.

“She has to” Geralt answers for you, knowing it’s too difficult for you to speak the words, “we’re assigned to protect you. It’s okay my love, don’t be sad, this is what I want”

“Geralt-” he’s cut off by a sharp sob wracking his body and you have to concentrate not to turn around and comfort him.

A large hand is suddenly round your arm and you’re dragged towards Geralt and thrown onto his lap where his arms reach to cage you protectively as he growls at the man who’s just dared to touch you, the first emotion he’s shown and of course it’s one for your benefit.

“Geralt, I don’t think I can do this” a tear starts to fall down your cheek as he holds you close, “I can’t, not you, please…”

“Come on sweetheart, look at me, you can. I know you can. You’re so brave, so brave my love” his hand comes to meet yours as he speaks and he threads his fingers through yours like an anchor.

You rest your head against his as you try and breathe, each drag of air fills your senses with more of him and it physically hurts you, where you would normally drink him in languidly you’re now choking as you fight with yourself.

“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry my wolf. This. I shouldn’t” you’re babbling, tears freely mingling with each word as you try to say what you need.

“Y/N, I don’t blame you. I love you. I regret nothing. Not a single thing that’s lead us here. I have known love I never thought possible with the two of you”

You finally meet his eyes with your own and you can tell he’s speaking the truth, his eyes are warm despite everything, and he smiles again at you.

“G, I love you. I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry”

“I know angel, it’s okay, I promise you”

Your hands, still entwined, reach for the engraved knife you keep strapped by your chest, and you’re thankful for his grip on you as you feel your fingers tremble. You don’t break eye contact, tears blurring your vision though you try and blink them away to see him better, and he helps you position the blade between his ribs.

“Jaskier my love, promise you’ll look after her for me”

He’s met with quiet sobs and a sniffled “I love you, please, please don’t do this” but the sound is cut off by what you assume to be a hit from one of the men at Jaskier’s side.

You can’t still your hand as you swallow down the bile threatening to rise in your throat, bitter and acrid and full of the hatred you can already feel beginning to taint your blood.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you, I’ve always got you” Geralt whispers oh so softly and before you can react he’s pushing hard and sharp and the grip he has on your hand allows him to push the knife exactly where it needs to be. You can’t help the scream that tears from your throat as blood begins to pour thick and fast, though his eyes are still on you and he’s still holding you close.

You don’t recognise the sounds behind you as you stare at him, apologies and screams and curses and heartache falling from your lips as you beg him to stay.


	18. Hallucinations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Jaskier deal with the fallout of your decision
> 
> Warnings: blood, hospitals, panic attacks, injury

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jask is precious here and I love him so much, my soft boy

You hadn’t so much as glanced in Jaskier’s direction since he’d pulled you off of Geralt’s frame and into his arms. You hadn’t reacted at all when the sound of gunfire had echoed from behind you, or again when Jaskier’s hand had appeared on your shoulder, or when he’d pulled you into his embrace.

You hadn’t registered the frantic words as he told you he’d called an ambulance, all you could focus on was the red that covered the floor and Geralt’s shirt and your hand and _oh god the knife, his knife, your knife, your hand, and him and what had you done_. You didn’t notice the way you were gasping for breath as it refused to fill your lungs, or the way your knees were buckling underneath you as ice flooded your veins and sweat coated your skin. Even as darkness began too creep in to the edge of your vision you hadn’t torn your eyes away from Geralt’s figure.

You wake up groggy and disorientated, the clinical scent of antiseptic seeping up your nose and into your pores, and you let out a groan as you make to sit yourself up.

“Oh you’re awake, thank god, I was so worried” Jaskier’s voice comes from the chair next to your bed and he reaches out to take your hand in his, “you’ve been out for a while, they think you had a panic attack and hit your head when you passed out. It’s my fault, I wasn’t holding you properly, I’m so sorry”

“Jask-”

“Shh, no you need to rest”

“Jaskier, where is he. I need to see him” you don’t let go of his hand, thankful for the contact, and instead squeeze it as you use him for support to try and swing your legs off the bed, “I can’t just sit here, you know I can’t. I need-”

“He’s in surgery Y/N, has been for hours, there’s nothing we can do. Please sweetheart, stay and rest, I need you to look after yourself right now”

“Jask, I…”

“I know, you don’t need to say anything my love, I’m right here”

You relax as best you can, leaning back into the pillows and gripping Jaskier’s hand so tight that he’s no doubt in pain, but he doesn’t complain or move to pull away. You close your eyes as you recline but each time you do you’re greeted with swathes of red and the image of Geralt beneath you, the ruby hilt of your knife peaking out from between his ribs and his eyes still so full of adoration for the person killing him. You panic, bolting upright again and drawing harsh breaths as you try to calm yourself.

“Do you hate me?” you can’t stop the question from falling from your lips and you can feel the weight of it settle quickly into your guts. The air around you is thick with tension and you’re terrified to hear the response. No matter what he says you know it won’t be the right answer because there isn’t one. You hate yourself enough for the both of you, it’s true, but how could he not hate you as well?

“I could never”

“Please don’t lie to me”

There’s a tense pause and you see a single tear track down his cheek as he struggles to find the words you need so desperately to hear. You lose track of how long you both sit there, looking anywhere except at each other as you both allow yourself to cry. Your hands are still clasped together as you wallow in your shared grief, tears flowing silently until there are none left to give. 

It’s you that breaks the silence.

“Will you sing to me?” your voice is smaller than he ever thought was possible as you make your request and he can feel his heart breaking all over again when he knows that there is nothing he can say or do to fix this. No amount of money in the world could help right now, so instead he focuses on offering what little comfort he can as he shifts to move his seat closer to you until you can feel the heat of his body radiating by your side and he starts to sing. It’s soft and gentle and you move so that your head is resting on his arm, “thank you”

He doesn’t stop singing to answer you, instead he squeezes your hand just once and runs his other hand through your hair gently.


	19. Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another day in the hospital, perhaps some news on Geralt's condition?
> 
> Warnings: panic attack, hospital, surgery, blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More of my soft boy Jask <3

You wake next to Jaskier, head still buried in the crook of his arm where you’d fallen asleep listening to his soft singing. Your eyes are sleep blurred and you move gently to wipe at them, trying to clear them without disturbing him from where he rests besides you. Your eyes scan over him and you can see how exhausted he looks, dark shadows pull at the lower lids of his eyes, blackening hues spreading across his cheek where stubble has begun to break through. His hair is sleep ruffled, but more than that you can see the tracks where he’s been running his hands through it anxiously. His usually pristine clothes are crumpled and there’s a smattering of red on the sleeve of his shirt that has you biting back bile that rises in your throat at the sight. You can’t hold back the tears that well in your eyes as you feel the familiar tightness creeping into your chest, overtaking until you’re struggling to breathe and the monitor at your side is beeping wildly.

Jaskier wakes with a start, eyes instantly latching on to you to make sure that you’re okay.

“Look at me, I’m right here, it’s okay. Focus, one breath in, one out. Come on angel” you practically claw at his forearms as you grip onto them, eyes wide with panic as you try to ground yourself.

“Okay sweetheart, name things you can feel, come on. Help bring yourself back to me” concern is etched into every facet of his face and it helps you to calm down as you regulate your breathing.

“You, I feel you” you manage to pant out as you feel the air return to your lungs. He softens at that and pulls you in for a hug as the beeping regulates and you can finally breathe again.

“Sorry to interrupt but are you okay? I heard the monitor…” a small voice pulls your attention to the door where a slim woman is stood nervously playing with the clipboard in her hand. 

“I’m fine, thank you. Just had a bit of a startle” seeming satisfied with the answer after seeing you nestled against Jaskier she turns to leave, “wait. Has there been any update on our… on Geralt?”

“Are you family?”

You don’t hesitate to reply with a strained “yes” and your grip on Jaskier tightens at the unexpected question, panic bubbling below the still surface of your eyes as you realise they might not let you see him.

“He’s out of surgery, you can go see him if you like but you’ll need to stay in a wheelchair for me, can’t risk having you faint before we can confirm you’re fit to be discharged. And. Be warned, he’s not woken up yet. The consultant will be able to tell you more. You want ward 6″ and with that she turns on her heel, her shoes squeaking on the linoleum floor as she leaves.

“Jask-”

“I know, come on, let’s get you in the chair”

“I’m not fucking getting in a wheelchair Jaskier, I’m not an invalid”

“Then I’m not taking you. You need to look after yourself, doctors orders. And more importantly, my orders”

“Fine” you huff as he lifts you gingerly out of the bed, cradling you delicately to his chest as he carries you towards the chair, “just know that this is extremely humiliating and I will get you back for this”

“I don’t doubt it my love” he chuckles as he sets you down and you scowl at him, features already flushing with embarrassment at your current predicament. 

You keep your eyes focused downwards as he wheels you through the halls, deciding that perhaps if you can’t see anyone then it means that they can’t see you either. You lose track of the twists and turns, and elevator rides up until you finally reach your destination and Jaskier stops at the reception desk for the ward.

“We’re here to see Geralt Rivia, we were told he’s on this ward”

“And you are?” your eyes snap up at that and you find rage beginning to flood your veins.

“We’re his goddamn family, now where is he?”

She rolls her eyes and Jaskier places a firm hand on your shoulder to calm you, fully aware of just how close you are to leaping out of the chair and pinning her to the desk. He can feel you literally vibrating with anger in your seat as she takes her time to check through the list of patients before finally getting up from her seat.


	20. Heart Shaped Glasses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neither of you handle things well, and things take an even worse turn
> 
> Warnings: DUBCON/NONCON please do not read this if it makes you uncomfortable, hospitals, surgery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was uncomfortable to write and might be uncomfortable to read, but I felt like it was necessary to show how Jaskier handles trauma. Please don't read this if it's going to make you upset or uncomfortable. Please.

You can feel the anxiety welling in your chest again as you near the door to Geralt’s room, a million thoughts running through your head as you get closer. _What if he didn’t wake up? What if he did and he hated you? What if he wasn’t himself anymore and it was all your fault? What if he blamed you? What if both of them did? What if they wanted nothing to do with you anymore?_

“Hey love, it’s okay” almost as if he’s read your mind Jaskier reaches a hand to rest on your shoulder, “let’s just take it easy okay? I’m right here” 

It doesn’t quell the rising panic in your chest but you feel thankful to have him there regardless and you reach up to clasp his hand in your own, “I’m scared Jask”

“Me too”

There’s a tense silence as you finally reach the door and you both stop just outside. You’re thankful to have Jaskier in control as you both swallow down the lumps rising in your throats and he gently props the door open before wheeling you in. You don’t know where to look as you enter the room; while you desperately want to see Geralt you’re terrified to find out what state he’s in, guilt gnaws at you angrily the longer you look away until you can’t stand it anymore and your eyes finally land on his resting form. 

You immediately wish you hadn’t looked.

You’ve never seen so many wires and tubes attached to someone before; there’s a tube down his throat to open his airways, there are drips with god knows what feeding in to him, fluid bags hanging over him like a grotesque angel and all you can think about as you get closer is that _you did this to him_. Jaskier seems to understand what you need without you saying anything and stops so that you’re close enough to hold his hand in yours, and you immediately grasp it and bring it to your lips to press a soft kiss to it. Hot tears begin to fall down your face as you feel how limp he is under your touch, usually so strong and capable, now almost lifeless as you hold him. The irony that he would do anything to protect you, each sculpted muscle poised in defense of you as though his life depended on it, now soft and delicate beneath your touch thanks to you. He had been the one who needed protection from you, and the thought damn near breaks your heart.

You hear the telltale scrape of a chair as Jask sits next to you, snaking an arm round your waist while his other hand comes to rest atop yours which is still clinging to Geralt as though you might be able to will him awake the harder you squeeze, as though you might be able to transfer some of your own life force into him, and god knows you’d trade places if you could. 

“He’ll be okay”

“How can you know?”

“Because he’s strong. He’ll be trying to get back to us. I know he will”

“Jask, what if he isn’t, what if he doesn’t…” you can’t finish the sentence, can’t will the words into existence, fearing what will happen if you do.

“We aren’t even going to think about that okay? Just focus on what’s in here in front of us. Geralt wouldn’t want us worrying” his voice is thick with emotion as he tries to comfort you and all it does is add to your guilt, not only is this your doing but now Jaskier is having to repress his own feelings for you.

“You don’t need to be strong for me you know” you mutter softly.

“He asked me to look after you" 

"You can’t look after me if you don’t look after yourself” you finally turn to look at him, tearing your eyes away from where they’ve been boring into your entangled hands. It feels like you’re looking at him for the first time, as though a veil has been lifted and you can see clearly; his blue eyes are shimmering with barley restrained tears, his lips are bloodied from worrying them between his teeth and the muscles of his neck are strained as he chokes back his sorrow. He’s gorgeous even in his devastation and you want nothing more than to comfort him.

Your hand falls from where it’s caught between his and Geralt’s, and god you can’t think about that right now it’s too much, as you move to hold Jaskier’s face in your palm. You cradle his face softly, eyes skimming over his tired features before you press your lips to his. It’s meant to be gentle and comforting but quickly grows into something deeper as he pulls you towards him and runs his tongue along your lips to pry them open for him. It’s hungry and predatory and you know it’s sparked by fear as you give in to him. He pulls roughly at your hospital gown desperate to see you, really see you, and uncaring that anyone could walk in and see. 

The second he has it undone he roughly shoves your legs apart and presses his fingers against you, seemingly uncaring that there’s discomfort on your face. You wince as he harshly presses two ring laden fingers into you, the lack of lubrication causing pain to flare between your legs and you grit your teeth to stop yourself from crying out as he begins to pump them rhythmically, lost in the motions as though he’s not even aware of how much he’s hurting you. You keep your eyes downturned and refuse to make a noise despite the discomfort you’re in; if this is what he needs to feel better you’ll endure, hell you’d do anything he asked of you if it meant relieving even the tiniest bit of guilt. He growls as though finally realising you’re not turned on and you can feel his eyes boring into you, smouldering and hot, and that’s what finally gets you to relax a little and look up at him. Tears are threatening the edge of your vision but he still doesn’t seem to care.

“Jask, please” you don’t know exactly when you started crying but your words are a sob as you call out to him. He doesn’t respond but he does bring his thumb to circle your clit, stroking slow patterns round the sensitive bundle of nerves until you start to feel arousal flooding your core. He doesn’t keep up the motion long enough for you to come, instead he pulls away the minute he feels that you’re wet enough and wraps you tightly in his arms as he lifts you from the chair and pulls you onto his lap. He still doesn’t say anything and now he isn’t even looking at you, instead choosing to stare straight past your head as he undoes his pants. He immediately sheathes himself in you, pushing you down so that he sinks all the way in and lets out a feral growl the second he feels himself bottom out; his hands grip your waist tightly, bruisingly so, as he begins to bounce you on his cock. Your hands shake nervously as you place them on his shoulders to try and steady yourself, you watch as they settle in place not recognising them as belonging to you. For all of his flaws and his wicked temper you’ve never once been scared of him before but right now he isn’t the Jaskier you know and you can feel the cold tendrils of fear working their way under your skin with each movement he makes. You try to keep your body as limp as possible, eyes focused on the harsh sterile lighting of the room as he fucks into you, worried that one wrong movement or word might bring his attention back to you. It doesn’t take long, maybe a few minutes at most, before he’s grunting again and you feel him tense up as he comes inside you, his hands still gripping you to him as he does. 

You don’t dare move so you just wait, wait to see if your Jask comes back to you now that he’s done or if he’s still the cold uncaring man who’d just been using you like a doll. Your breaths are shaky as you try to remain still and calm and the longer he’s silent for the more anxious you get.

“Y/N?” his voice sounds so small, throaty and raw and you realise he’s crying.

“I’m here” you don’t sound much better when you speak but you try to keep your voice calm and your words measured.

“I’m, fuck, I’m so sorry. I don’t… That wasn’t…”

“I know” and it’s all you can bring yourself, knowing a single word more and you’d be crying again as well.

“I… I should go”

“Jask”

“Please” the way his voice breaks is enough to stop you fighting him and you simply nod against his shoulder in defeat. He’s so gentle again when he moves you, touching you as though you’re made of glass and could break at any second as he wraps you back up in your gown and gently cleans between your legs; tears flow freely down his face the entire time but he won’t let you try to comfort him, any attempt at a soft word or touch is greeted with a flinch and you give up trying. He can’t bring himself to look at you, look at what he’s done to you, and the second he’s finished cleaning you up he turns on his heel and walks out without so much as a word. 

“What have I done, Geralt?”


	21. Destiny Delivered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt's fate hangs in the balance while you deal with the aftermath of Jaskier's actions.
> 
> Word Count: 2007
> 
> Warnings: hospital, panic attack, angst

It's been seven days since you've last seen Jaskier, since he'd practically run through the door to get away, and he hasn't tried to make contact with you since. You’ve been staring at your phone on and off when you’ve not been focused on Geralt, waiting for the ping of a message or a call, even an update on his social media just to let you know where he is and that he’s safe. You try to keep your attention on Geralt as much as you can rather than on the sickness you’ve noticed settling in your stomach and growing stronger with each passing hour that you don’t hear from Jask. 

You’d spent the last few days rarely straying from your seat next to him, clasping his hand firmly in yours as you repeated the same redundant apologies over and over again like a mantra, as though stumbling through the same words would somehow make them ring true and he’d suddenly be awake and back in your arms, as though they would heal the wound in his chest and undo where you’d ripped him apart. The words play over and over again, when you’re not speaking them you’re thinking them, filling every essence of your being with apologies. Every word you speak has an echo, a familiar voice in the back of your head, Jaskier’s deep timbre uttering the lines. As though you were wishing him to say them to you. 

Nurses had been coming and going several times a day to check various charts and equipment but not actually giving you any information, only that he was stable for now and that they would need to continue to monitor the situation, and it seemed like today was going to be no different than usual. You’d been dozing throughout the day as you sat by his side and were now comfortably resting with your head on his bicep so that you could be as close to him as possible, you told yourself it was for his protection but really it was so that you could try and cut through the clinical antiseptic stain that coated each breath you took to try and find a little bit of him underneath it all. You thought, if you concentrated hard enough, that you could pick up the soft notes of citrus from his cologne- Jaskier’s cologne- the ripe sour sweet fragrance that makes your mouth water.

You’re startled awake by your pillow shifting and it takes you a few blinks to clear the sleep from your eyes and register why you’ve been woken up. There’s a low groan from the side of you and you can’t help the smile that breaks out at the sound. The sickness in your bones ebbs away as you look up at Geralt; his amber eyes are cracked open and he’s looking at you with a soft smile on his face despite the discomfort clouding his features.

“You’re awake, um, let me, let me fetch a nurse. Wait, no, do you want some water? Are you hungry? Are you comfortable? Oh god I can’t believe you’re awake-”

“Angel, shhh, please” his voice cracks as he speaks, days of not drinking causes the words to catch as they fall rough hewn from him and it cements your decision to pass him a glass of water from the plastic pitcher on the side. You wince at the temperature of it and regret not having kept on top of refilling it. Just a minor thing to add to the pile in the grand scheme of things, but right now it’s nearly enough to tip you over the edge.

“It should be cold, it’s not, I’ll get more. I’ll get more, um, stay here” and before you have time for the tears already forming to spill over you’re out of the door. 

Sobs fall freely from you the second you’re through and you rest against it as you let yourself cry. Your hands are shaking as you pull your phone out for the last time and quickly type out a message to Jask, a simple “he’s awake” and you press send, promptly turning it off and putting it away. You push down the bile rising in your throat at the thought that Geralt has woken up without Jaskier here, that he didn’t care enough to be here for Geralt (a small voice at the back of your mind echoes he didn’t care enough to be here for you either but you daren’t dwell) A nurse catches your eye and you brush your tears off to approach him and ask him to check on Geralt before going to refill the water jug and heading back in. 

You wait as the nurse does a few checks and fills out his forms before leaving the two of you alone. You settle back down in your chair and try to steady both your hands and your breathing as you pass him a fresh cup of water. There’s a sharp hiss as he sits up but he bats away your hand playfully before you can even begin to fuss over him.

“Are you okay? They didn’t, they didn’t hurt you did they? Where’s Jask?” panic flits across his face as he takes in your disheveled appearance, the dark circles under your eyes from sleeplessness all too evident when combined with the wet pools of your tears.

“Jask is… He’s fine. He needed to get some things from the house, I’ve let him know you’re awake” you hate lying to him but you force the words out. They taste bitter and shameful on your tongue, you’ve never lied to him before but right now he doesn’t need to know what happened, not when he needs to recover and you need to come to terms with it yourself. Now isn’t the time.

“You promise me you’re not hurt?”

“I promise” another lie, “please stop worrying Geralt, sweetheart, and rest” you cup his face gently in your hand and he nuzzles against your wrist as he takes a deep breath and relaxes.

“I’m so sorry Geralt, this is all my fault. I should’ve, I could’ve… Something, I should’ve done something, anything. I did this. I can’t. I can’t. Take it back. I can’t-” 

“No, no, don’t you dare. Look at me, breathe, in and out. Come on, that’s it, I’m right here, you’re okay” 

Panic floods you despite his reassurances and you can’t stop the tightening in your chest or the way your eyes widen. The empty weight on your chest practically crushes the air from you as you gasp shallow breaths back down, desperately trying to ground yourself for Geralt. It’s useless, the more you look at him the more you see Jaskier, his calming blue eyes that were the last ones to bring you back before they turned and you can’t stop, can’t fight the fear and the memory and it’s so overwhelming but you know you need to get back to Geralt because he needs you right now. The guilt and the fear overwhelm everything as you desperately try to fight.

Geralt seems to realise he’s lost you because he’s calling for help and you’re being gently moved to another seat outside of the room and a nurse is gently trying to coax you out of it as best she can. You choke as you try to steady your breath and are finally recovering when you see Jaskier walk in and it feels like a punch to the gut when you take in his appearance. He’s wearing the same clothes he left in, his face is rough with stubble and fatigue and even from where you’re sat you can see the dark bruises that litter his throat. Neither of you can look at each other for too long, unable to meet the other’s gaze as you battle your own demons, but you know he can’t go in to see Geralt looking like that and right now he’s more important than your own feelings.

“You can’t go in like that, I, um, he asked where you were and, I… I told him you’d gone back to the house to get stuff” you still can’t look at him so you don’t see the shock on his face.

“Why, why didn’t you tell him?”

“Tell him what? He doesn’t need this right now, I don’t even know what this is. It’s best he doesn’t know. But. Please. I can pretend in front of him but please. Not alone” you’re sure he can hear how broken you are but you can’t bring yourself to care. 

“Okay, I’ll… I’ll go back to the house and change. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you. I shouldn’t have done any of it. It’s not me”

“Not alone, please, I can’t do this right now” you wipe your eyes on the back of your sleeve as you turn away, “don’t be long. He wants to see you. He’s worried. Don’t hurt him” the silent _like you hurt me_ echoes despite being unspoken and you see the hurt on his face as he flinches, the implication cutting him deeper than any of your knives ever could. He nods once, eyes trained on the tiles at your feet, before leaving. You don’t bother watching him go, the resentful thought that you’ve seen it enough snarling up before you can stop it, instead you go straight back to Geralt’s side.

“Are you okay, my love?” always so worried about you, so thoughtful, as though you weren’t the reason for him being here in the first place.

“Stop worrying about me Geralt, I’m not the one in a hospital bed” you allow yourself to smile fully, not wanting him to worry, “Jask will be here soon, I’m sure, he’ll be happy to see you”

“I can’t wait to have you both with me together, has he been looking after you?” he sounds so hopeful, so happy and proud and you can’t bring yourself to break his heart.

“Yes, he’s been great, just like he promised” another lie. At least that makes two of you, “how are you though? Can I get you anything? Are you in pain? Of course you are, but can I help?”

“Sweetheart, I’m fine, the best thing you can do for me right now is to relax and let me have a cuddle, think you can do that?” he’s so soft, you think, you don’t deserve it after what you’ve done. You’re happy to oblige as he scoots up in the bed, his hulking frame still somehow making space for you to join him on the bed. You snuggle into him, head buried in his chest carefully to avoid disturbing his wounds, and you finally feel safe for the first time since. You listen to the rhythmic thump of his heartbeat as you lay there, each beat a reminder that he’s safe and alive and here with you. You can finally smell him, not his cologne, but him and you feel at home. You press gentle kisses to his neck as you lay there cocooned in his warmth, each press of your lips letting him know how grateful you are to have him back and to be in his arms again. Just for a moment you find yourself imagining what it would be like if it were just the two of you again, if you had kept him to yourself and been selfish, how different things would be. It had been a lot simpler when you only had each other and right now you miss it more than anything. 

“I’ve missed this” you mumble into his chest, so quietly that you think he might not hear it.

“Mmm, so have I angel, so much” he breathes in deeply before pressing a kiss to your head and you melt into it, finally allowing yourself to fully relax. You hadn’t realised how tired you were until now and you find yourself drifting to sleep in his arms, already dreaming of what could have been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's an alternate non-canon version of this called Destiny Denied available on my tumblr for those of you who may want more angst, as a treat.


	22. Twisted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A secret comes out
> 
> Warnings: angst, blood, gore and violence
> 
> Word Count: 2312

Geralt has been home for two weeks now, assigned to bed rest to help heal his wounds. You and Jaskier have been careful around him to try and avoid any suspicion, but each night after he’s fallen asleep you pull yourself from his grasp as gently as you can so as not to wake him. If Jaskier notices he doesn’t say anything, instead he stays nestled close to Geralt on his other side and it twists your heart with guilt to see how peaceful they look together. You tread as lightly as you can across the floorboards to avoid waking him before slipping through the door and taking up residence on the sofa for the night. Every morning you’d wake him with a fresh cup of coffee, decaf, to excuse your absence if he noticed it and it seemed to be working. You thought it had been going pretty well and you were spending the afternoon cuddled up in bed with Geralt while Jaskier was out doing god only knows what. 

You smile as you breathe him in, your face nuzzling into his neck to shelter you from the outside world as you hold each other close and you finally feel yourself relax now that you’re in his arms. You lay there for what feels like an eternity, wrapped in the safety and comfort of each other, listening to the way you breathe in sync, your heartbeats pumping in tandem as you rest. 

“Angel, can I ask you something?” his voice is hesitant, the words shake slightly and you can feel the way his breath hitches in his throat and the sudden increase in his heart rate as the words hang in the air. Whatever he wants to know has him anxious and you hate it.

“Anything, always” you pull back slightly, withdrawing from the safety of his neck so that you can look into his eyes. Concern is darkening the usually vibrant amber of his eyes, his brow furrowed as he looks at you and it sends worry swirling to the pit of your stomach that grows more violent with each passing second.

“I need you to be honest with me” you swear you feel your heart stop, “I know you’ve been lying to me since the hospital, no it’s okay sweetheart, it’s okay, I’m not angry. I just need to know why” his voice is soothing despite his words and his eyes soften as he looks at you, silently urging you to open up to him.

“I- Geralt I-”

“It’s okay angel, take your time, I’m right here”

“I can’t take this back once I say it and I’m not sure, I don’t… I don’t know…” tears are already beginning to roll down your cheeks, gathering at the end of your nose and falling in fat globes to land on the bed below.

“Come here” he pulls you back in, back to the port of his arms to try and keep you safe from the storm of your own emotions as you begin to sob. You can feel his frame shaking with each cry that leaves your body as you finally let your feelings out, waves of sorrow, guilt, anger, denial all crashing out of you as he holds you. Your chest tightens as your sobs turn to hiccups and he loosens his grip to let you breathe, knowing what you need before you can ask. 

He holds you through it all, his thumb methodically wiping away your tears until they’ve long since dried up, listening to you stumble over words as you try to explain what you still don’t fully understand yourself. It’s a stuttered and broken explanation, fitting for a broken person you think bitterly, but you try your best to force the words out despite the way they catch in your throat desperate to stay buried, hidden, away from the light of day. You’re sure you’ve been babbling for about an hour now and the words still hold no shape but he doesn’t stop holding you, doesn’t stop rubbing soothing patterns on your back with his hand, doesn’t stop pressing soft kisses to every inch of your face to calm you. Ever patient. Each time the shadow of guilt rises to claw at your chest he bats it away with a soft word, a gentle reminder that you’re safe and loved and protected. 

“Oh, sorry, I thought… Um, I thought you were out” Jaskier’s voice shatters the confines of your safety with a startling ease and panic flashes in your lungs, suffocating any comfort you’d been feeling until you’re struggling for breath and clinging to Geralt to try and bring it back. He understands, feels the way you panic in his arms and pulls you closer.

“I think you need to sit down, Jaskier, I have some questions that our sweetheart seems to be struggling with and I need you to clarify for me” there’s a hard edge to his voice, nowhere near the same soft tone he’d been using with you, and you realise he must have picked out at least a few words from your mindless rambling.

You feel the bed behind you shift as he sits and you instinctively bury yourself even more tightly into Geralt’s chest.

“You’re going to explain to me what this,” Geralt gestures at the way you’re cowering in his arms, “is about. Because I know Y/N, and I have never once seen her scared”

“Geralt-”

“Explain” his voice is cutting as he holds you to him and you can imagine the way his eyes are burning as they stare at Jaskier.

You hear Jaskier swallow thickly and you know he’ll be looking down and playing with his ring as he tries to find the words that you couldn’t, the anxious habit something you’ve seen him do countless times at family meetings.

“I- I made a mistake… I made a lot of them”

“You’ll have to do better than that”

“Please don’t, don’t make me say it” he sounds so broken, so small and fragile, “you clearly know already, please Geralt”  
“Tell. Me. What. You. Did”

“Geralt, we don’t have to-” 

“No angel, we do, he needs to say it. You’re safe, I’ve got you” a gentle hand runs through your hair as he protects you, defends you despite all you’ve done to him. 

“No, this is my fault Geralt, if I hadn’t…” you whisper the next words, “stabbed you” another choked sob falls from you, “then it wouldn’t have… I wouldn’t… I don’t deserve your protection”

“Darling, no, you did nothing wrong, not a single thing, you did your job and I’m so incredibly proud of you, so proud sweetheart” 

“Geralt-”

“Say it Jaskier, just say it before I lose my temper”

“I can’t, please”

There’s a hitched breath from Jaskier and you realise he’s crying, real genuine tears of remorse as he sits just behind you and you’re torn. It would be so easy to turn round to console him, so easy to fall back into your old routine, to show Geralt you can be okay and he has nothing to worry about. But you can’t. Because as much as you wish you could, it’s not the same now. You’re not sure what’s more terrifying to you; the thought that it is your Jask sat crying and needing to be consoled, or the thought that it’s a different Jaskier to the one that you knew.

He whispers an answer, so low and quiet you almost miss it, a secret admission that tumbles into the bed sheets as though it can somehow stay hidden under the covers, stay as something dark and sinister lurking just below the surface.

“I didn’t hear you”

“Geralt, please”

“I said I didn’t hear you”

He repeats the admission, louder now, a flurry of words entwined with sorrow and rage and self loathing that rip violently from him like a hurricane and hit you straight in the chest. Geralt stiffens as he holds you, the thin veil of control he had over his rage slowly slipping further away with each word that falls from Jaskier until he’s practically shaking with the force of his anger.

“... I ran and I shouldn’t have, god, I left you, I left you all alone to deal with this and I… I, god, I made so many mistakes, so many, and I can’t, I can’t take it back, I can’t, and I can’t make it go away for me or for you, I wish I could, I wish I could so much, fuck, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry angel”

“You don’t get to call her that anymore” Geralt snarls as you feel him pull away from you, getting to his feet quickly as he rounds the bed to get to Jaskier, “I’m not going to do this in front of her, she doesn’t deserve to see this, outside. Now”

“Geralt please, don’t, please don’t hurt him” 

“No he’s right,” Jaskier gets to his feet shakily, “it’s what I deserve”

“No, please!” the thought of what you know is about to happen makes you sick to your stomach, guilt swilling unbearably as you pull yourself to sit up, hands reaching out to Geralt as tears blur your vision again, “I don’t want this, please, we can talk it out”

He pauses for just a fraction of a second as Jaskier leaves the room, just long enough to send you an apologetic look before he follows Jask out and closes the door behind him. The silence without them is overwhelming and you strain to try and pick up any sounds indicating what’s happening, anything that might let you know that everything is okay and that maybe Geralt had listened to you. You wait as long as you can manage in the deafening silence, until the sickness in your stomach is threatening to spill over and you can’t bear it any longer. 

The door creaks as you open it and step out, but you’re greeted by more silence in the hallway, no signs of Jaskier or Geralt anywhere, and you can’t help the way your brain jumps from scenario to scenario. _What if they’d fought and they were both injured, and god, Geralt’s wounds, was he okay? What if Geralt had asked Jaskier to leave? That would be the best case scenario right now, that he’d told him to leave. Where were they? What if Geralt had killed him? You wouldn’t put it past him with the rage you’d seen on his face._ Your thoughts run a mile a minute, racing through your head as you run through the house to try and find them, desperate to get to them before… you don’t know what. 

You pad quietly and quickly through the house, checking each room until there’s only the basement left. Fear tightens your heart in a deathly vice with each step you take, the descent taking you closer to something you know you don’t want to see.

You hear them before you see them, the sound of fists against flesh over and over again combined with Geralt’s grunts, but you can’t hear Jaskier and panic flares as you realise. You nearly trip as you get to the last few stairs, so desperate to get to them that you’re not paying attention.

“Stop!” it’s more of a scream than anything as you take in the scene in front of you; the padded mats of the gym floor are practically swimming in pools of blood, Jaskier’s blood, leaving a trail to where he’s currently slumped motionless across a workout bench. Geralt either hasn’t noticed that Jaskier isn’t conscious anymore or he doesn’t care because he’s still wailing his fists into him, over and over again to the point you know he’ll have his own bruises to show tomorrow. You’ve never seen him this violent before, not to the point where he’s lost control, and it scares you a little.

“Geralt, please stop” you know you don’t have much of a chance but he’s not listening to you, too lost in his rage to hear your words, so you close the distance between you and grab at his arm mid air. He seems to notice that because he stops instantly at your touch, freezing in place as he registers that you’re there.

“Move, angel, let me finish this”

“Geralt no” you slip beneath his arm to position yourself between him and Jaskier, “please, I already nearly lost you...I can’t.... I can’t lose him. Not like this. I can’t” you’re vaguely aware that you're crying again, the realisation that a small part of you at least still cares about Jaskier hits you in the chest and you shake your head no at Geralt again.

“Move”

“No, I can’t, please Geralt”

“Sweetheart-”

“If you love me you’ll stop”

“Don’t-”

“Please” he finally relaxes as he realises you’re not going to move, “can you fetch me the first aid kit and some water, please?”

He nods once before storming off to go get it and you know he’ll be gone a while to try and calm himself down so you turn your attentions to Jaskier. He’s still breathing thankfully, though it’s shallow, and bruises are already beginning to form across his cheekbones and trail along his eye socket. His nose is definitely broken, a large bloodied gash decorates it with another splitting his lip through the middle. You reach for his hands to inspect them for any damage but they’re clean, and a sob rips through you as you realise that he didn’t even try to defend himself from Geralt, he truly believed he deserved it.

“Jask, I’m sorry, fuck, just hang in there for me, it’s going to be okay, you’re going to be okay” you hold him close, grasping him tightly as you cry. You wouldn’t, couldn’t, lose him like this.


	23. Shiver

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: You try to patch things up between the boys
> 
> Warnings: nsfw, smut, angst, panic attack, implications of past trauma
> 
> Word Count: 1.5k

You card your hand through the soft locks of Geralt’s hair as you rest your head in the crook of his neck, your other arm slung lazily across his chest as you lay together. It’s been a week since you’d patched Jask up and the two were keeping their distance with you mediating between them to try and resolve things, and today’s no different.

“Come on Geralt, talk to me, it’s just us”

“Hmm”

“I know you’ve got a lot more to say than just hmm, we both do” you keep your tone light and teasing as you try to crack through the cold exterior he’s been putting on for the last week. 

“What else do you want me to say, sweetheart? You’ve forgiven him, I can’t”

“I don’t believe you”

“You don’t have to”

“I miss you, Geralt. Please, don’t shut me out like this”

“I can’t….”

“It’s just me and you, love, please let me in” he shifts to look at you as you beg him to open up and he looks positively vulnerable, the molten gold of his eyes so soft you could fall right in.

“I’m trying, I- I want to, I’m just, just so angry. I wasn’t there to protect you, I should’ve-” you don’t think as your lips surge up to catch his in a heated kiss. It’s the first time since he’s woken up that you’ve had any physical intimacy past holding each other, and it catches him off guard. He doesn’t hesitate to meet the kiss with the same level of passion, though, and you smile to yourself knowing that despite everything at least that hasn’t changed between the two of you.

It’s easy, surprisingly so, as you maneuver yourself, pulling your body away from his to straddle him as your lips stay connected. His hands are quick to reach up to start undressing you as his lips devour you; he moans softly as you tug at his hair, his lips parting and you take the opportunity to slip your tongue between them. His hands skim along your sides as he rids you of your clothes, despite the urgency in his kiss he’s slow and soft with you as he undresses you. 

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” he pulls back slightly, your lips parting with a wet pop as he draws back to look you in the eye. His features are etched with the heavy shadow of concern despite the lust that’s evident just below the surface. His touch is still featherlight as he holds you, his large hands so delicate with you as though you could break with any wrong movement. 

“Please, Geralt, let me show how much I’ve missed you” the words are barely a whisper as you reach back down to press your mouth to his, missing the sensation of the soft lips against your own already. 

It’s all the confirmation he needs and he’s quick to wrap his arms round you and gently flip you so that his frame is caging you in protectively, his lips pulling away to trail down the bare expanse of your neck as you reach up to divest him of his clothing. He hisses slightly as he strains his stitches but he doesn’t stop, a hushed plea for more falling from him until he’s panting and naked above you and his lips are back on yours. 

He growls against your mouth as his hand reaches between your parted thighs to find that you’re already positively dripping with need for him, and though the sound is fierce his touch is still so soft you could melt.

“Fuck, sweetheart, last chance because I’m not sure I can hold back anymore. Need you to tell me you want this” 

“I want this- want you, always. Make me feel good, please” your nails are digging into the solid expanse of muscle between his shoulder blades and you know that the crescent moon hues will be there tomorrow you’re clawing so hard, so desperate for more that you’re barely thinking straight, “just fuck me, my wolf, I need you”

Another growl tears from him, less restrained than last time as he settles between your thighs; the heavy length of his cock presses against you, precome already beginning to smear hot streaks of need across your skin before he presses into you. He goes slowly, a gasp of pleasure rippling from both of you as he gets deeper until he’s fully seated in you. His hips still as he brings his hand to gently cradle your face in his palm where he softly runs his fingers across your cheekbone as he looks at you.

“Is this still okay, angel?” his voice is gruff and strained but the words still come out as a purr as he checks in, the golden glow of his eyes steady as he intently studies your face for any signs of discomfort, still so careful to make sure you feel safe beneath him.

“Yes, fuck, yes Geralt, more” each word is punctuated by a whine and a thrust of your hips as you beg with all you have for more, more of the man you love, more of anything he’ll give you. 

His gaze doesn’t waver in its intensity as he starts to move, rolling his hips slowly yet forcefully while his eyes stay locked onto yours. The worry fades to soft devotion as he looks at you and you melt beneath him until bliss begins to spread through your veins. His pace is languid as he takes him time to thoroughly fuck you, his grasp on you is just firm enough for you to feel him, the pads of his fingers rough against your face as he cradles it, and it’s both too much and not enough. You barely have time to whimper out his name before your orgasm is crashing through you.

“Look at me sweetheart, keep those eyes open, let me see you” a whispered command has your eyes locked on his, the sweet words holding you in place as tears of pleasure start to gather in the corner of your eyes. He doesn’t stop, his arms still caging you in protectively as he fucks you through your orgasm until you’re quivering beneath him with each stroke of his cock as it hits just right to have you seeing stars. As the tears start to run your vision blurs and a strangles sob that starts as overstimulation and ends up as panic is drawn from you; the gold of Geralt’s eyes shifts through your tears, fading from warm amber to cold blue as anxiety seeps beneath your skin. 

“Sweetheart?” Geralt stills immediately, his eyes scanning you for any injuries, any reasons for the sudden outburst of sobs as he holds you close, no longer interested in his own pleasure and instead focused on making sure you’re okay. Your choked tears don’t stop as you try to calm yourself down, because you know that this is Geralt and you’re safe, it’s not… It’s not _that_ and Geralt is not Jaskier, but _that_ Jaskier wasn’t _your_ Jaskier…

“Marshmallow” there’s a hard edge underlying his hushed tone as he utters the safe word before gently extracting himself from your tangle of limbs and rearranging himself so that you’re curled against his chest as he holds you. Neither of you say anything as you lay there; he softly runs a hand through your hair as you steady your breathing until the tears have stopped and the deadweight of panic is lifted from your lungs.

“I’m sorry-”

“No, you’re okay, you have nothing to apologise for” his lips brush against your temple as he speaks and it’s surprisingly soothing, “wanna tell me what happened there, darling?”

“I got lost in my own head”

“Is that all?”

You hum a soft acknowledgement, an unspoken yes, and he seems to accept it.

“Thank you for trusting me” his voice is barely a whisper, if not for the warm pressure of his mouth against you it could’ve been missed.

“ _Always_ ” 

“I-I’m sorry, for.. For me” he swallows round the lump in his throat, you can hear the way he’s battling back his own tears as he cradles you and it hurts, sends shards of pain to wrench through your heart at the thought that he’s in pain as well. 

“No, don’t, just-just promise me we can try to work through this, please” you’re not sure who’s crying more now as you cling to his chest in desperate need of an affirmation from him that he’ll try, that maybe you can work through this with him.

“After what I did? I wasn’t there for you, I couldn’t keep you safe… I-I, fuck, I nearly killed him-” you recognise the panic in his voice all too well.

“That, that wasn’t your fault. I did that to you, not you, don’t you dare”

“I should’ve been more careful, never should have let us be ambushed…”

“Geralt-”

“No, I know it’s my fault”

“Geralt-”

“It’s okay”

“No, Geralt, you’re right. We were ambushed. They knew”

“What?”

“They knew we were coming… Which means…”

“Renfri”

“Shelley”


	24. Broken Pieces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: You and Geralt tell Jask you’ve been set up.
> 
> Warnings: smut, nsfw, oral (f receiving), mentions of panic attack, implications of past trauma, there is a knife very briefly
> 
> Word Count: 1.8k

“Why?” Jaskier’s question weighs heavy in the air as you sit opposite him at the table.

“I don’t know, I thought he was dead. What about Renfri, Geralt?” you turn to the man at your side; his head is in his hands as he looks at the table, the silver hair wound taught through his fingers as he thinks. 

“Haven’t seen her in years, we worked together a few times a while back, among other things…” you can see the blush that taints his cheeks as he speaks and Jaskier quirks a brow at the admission.

“Is there anyone you haven’t slept with?” you tease to try and keep any tension at bay.

“As if you haven’t slept with Shelley” he shoots back, turning to look at you with a soft grin, “clearly you have a type”

“No idea what you mean” your own face is breaking out into a smile as you look at him. It’s odd but not entirely unexpected, you think, that having a new goal would be the best way to get things back to normal between the three of you, if only temporarily. You’re interrupted from your thoughts by Jaskier clearing his throat and both you and Geralt turn your attentions to him.

“As.. fascinating.. as this is, how does it help?”

“Oh, Jaskier, is that jealousy I hear?”

“No”

“It is!” you smile encouragingly at him as an idea pops into your head. Geralt frowns at you, knowing what the look on your face means before you’ve even said a word.

“Oh no, no no, I know that face, no”

“Don’t you trust me?” you bat your lashes at him and delight in the way you can visibly see the tension drain from his body as he tries to relax for you. He doesn’t stop you when you get up from your seat, practically skipping to the other side of the table. 

You swallow down your anxieties as you get close to where Jask is sitting, each step causing the familiar panic to burn in your lungs but you fight against it. You know you’re safe, Geralt is right behind you, and you want to work through this with both of them.

“What are you-” Jask’s question of protest dies in his throat as you sit yourself down on the table in front of him, legs spread so that they rest on either side of his frame, “oh”

“You’ve got nothing to be jealous of, Jask, I’m not going anywhere, okay?” he swallows thickly as he tears his eyes away from between your spread legs to look at you. Behind you you can feel Geralt shifting, leaning forward to be closer to you.

“Why? Why would you stay after what I did?”

“Because I love you, both of you, and I want to work through this if we can”

“G-Geralt?”

“I’m willing to try” Geralt’s voice is tense and you know he’s struggling with it, but you appreciate the effort he’s putting in.

Jaskier begins to tear up as he looks between the two of you and you instinctively reach down to cup his cheek in your hand, your thumb running over the soft skin to wipe at his tears. He’s gentle as he leans into your touch and allows you to comfort him, and despite the trembling in your hands you manage to keep yourself calm. His breathing slows as you soothe him with your touch until he’s practically melting beneath you and you notice that his eyes are starting to wander downwards again.

“I’ve missed you” it’s almost a whisper and you feel the words dance across your wrist as he spills them, soft and gentle and reminiscent of the Jaskier you used to know.

“I’ve missed you too” your confession sparks something in his eyes, a familiar heat glimmering in them as he wets his lips with his tongue. He looks up at where you’re sitting and you know he’s asking for permission before he makes any moves. You nod softly, your breath hitching in your throat as he moves his face away from your hand and instead dips down, pressing an open mouthed kiss to your bare thigh.

“Is, this okay?”

You don’t answer him, instead you grab a fistful of his hair and pull him closer to where you want him most. You’re startled when you feel Geralt move again behind you as he climbs on to the table, his large frame enveloping yours as he sits with his chest pressed to your back. 

“I thought you were telling us something important, angel?” Geralt’s breath ghosts across your ear and you instinctively buck at the sensation, which only serves to press Jaskier’s face further against you. 

“Mma little bit busy right now…”

“No, sweetheart, this information is vital, no getting distracted” you can’t help but moan as one of Geralt’s large hands settles on your waist, the other wrapping gently round your throat, “though I think if you give me that information.. J-Jaskier will give you what you want” he stumbles slightly over the words, still fighting his own discomfort but seemingly winning out.

You whine as Jaskier’s hands run up your thighs, “stay still” he mutters and you feel the cold of a knife as he cuts the sides of your underwear away to leave you exposed for him. Geralt’s gaze is heavy on you as he looks for any signs of discomfort and you know that Jask will be doing the same; you do your best to calm down your thumping heart and shoot them both a, what you hope to be, confident smile.

“So, what was it you wanted to kn-oh” your question becomes a moan as Jask runs his tongue between your folds slowly, but Geralt’s hands stop you from being able to grind against him the way that you want.

“Oh no, not until you’ve told me what I need to know, angel” Geralt nuzzles against your ear playfully just as Jask’s tongue moves against you again, “the quicker you tell me the quicker you can come”

“There’s, fuck, there’s not much to say” your words are punctuated by small gasps, “um, we, shit, we worked together years ago but, fuck Jask, I thought he was dead”

“Hmm” you groan as Geralt nips softly at your neck, “need more than that, don’t be getting shy on us now”

“Fuck, fuck, okay. We were, shit, we were running drugs together, and, fuck, yeah I guess we were pretty close, but, shit, okay we were together, um, oh fuck Jask, shit” Jask pulls back now and you feel like you can finally breathe as his mouth trails along your thighs, gently nipping and kissing at them.

“So maybe revenge, did you leave him, darling?”

“No, god no, I thought he was dead. The last time I saw him I was meant to have done the drop for the day but he swapped with me, made me wait in the car. I don’t know what happened, but he was shot, several times. And I waited, god, I sat and waited for them to leave and when I got to him he had no pulse. I called an ambulance but I couldn’t stay, the police wouldn’t have gone easy on me”

“Do you know who did it?”

“No, shit,” you cry out as Jask runs his tongue back against you, his hands wrapping round your thighs, “this is, a little morbid, for the situation, no?”

“You fucking love it, don’t play coy” Geralt practically growls and you can feel the way the words rumble in his chest as he pulls you closer, turning your head so that his lips can connect with yours. He finally releases his grip on your waist, allowing you to move against Jaskier’s face to position him just right. His hands don’t leave your thighs as he picks up the pace, his tongue doing all the work as he wraps his lips around your sensitive clit, his stubbled jaw rubbing just right against your aching core. You’re glad to have Geralt’s mouth against yours to muffle your moans as Jaskier works you close to orgasm, his tongue not stopping, and you can feel yourself getting closer to your peak with each second. Your hips seem to be moving with a life of their own as you grind down on Jask’s face and you’re not sure how much longer you’re going to last. The sounds you’re making are obscene, the wet noise of your cunt and Jask’s mouth echoes round the room as you’re pulled apart by him. Just as you’re about to come and you feel the trickles of warmth start to spread through your veins Geralt pulls his mouth from yours and leans into your ear “come for me, angel, come for us.” The command is all you need to hear and you come with a cry, your hips bucking one last time against Jaskier’s eager face as he works you through your orgasm. Heat flushes your cheeks as you feel yourself gush, a wave of pure need that’s now coating Jask and the table. 

Jask pulls away slowly and you can feel his tongue gently lapping at whatever he can as he cleans you off, while Geralt holds you close and presses soft kisses to your face as you come down from the high. 

“Was that really necessary, you know I would’ve told you anyway”

“Are you complaining?” Geralt teases you as he keeps kissing you, his eyes sparkling with joy for the first time in weeks, and you can’t stop your grin from breaking out. Maybe everything was going to be okay after all. 

“So, when do we go?” Jask settles in place again between your legs, his head resting against your thigh as he looks up at you, his face painted with the familiar glow of adoration, and you feel yourself melt between them.

“Let me clean up, we can stock the van, and then we’ll go. Are you sure you’re up for it, both of you. I know…I know you’re both still… Recovering, and I wouldn’t want you to get more hurt” 

“You think we’re gonna let you go alone? Absolutely not”

“Besides,” Jask grins at you, “I’m pretty sure most people think at least one of us is dead, if not both. Element of surprise”

“Don’t even joke Jask, I swear to god” 

“I know, I know, I’m sorry. Come on, let’s get you up, I’ll meet you by the van in five okay?”

You nod as you get to your feet, Geralt’s firm hand in yours helping to keep you steady as you take a few shaky steps before you find your footing, and you give them both a smile before heading towards the bedroom to get changed.


	25. Hunted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hunt for Shelley is on....
> 
> Warning- this chapter contains graphic violence, including dismemberment.

It was easy enough getting the bag over Shelley’s head; Geralt had hoisted him over his shoulder and thrown him in the van before taking his place behind the wheel. Renfri had been even easier, there had been no need for threats, and if it wasn’t for the situation you would have almost felt sorry for her. _Almost_.

You and Jaskier stay in the back of the van with them as you travel to your destination, and you realise silently that this was the most time you’ve spent with him alone, or as alone as you could be, since the incident. He smiles softly at you from his seat opposite you and you melt beneath his gaze, a small smile is creeping across his features as he looks at you like he used to and it takes everything you have to stay sat in your seat.

“Thank you for doing this with me, with us” your voice is quiet as you speak and you hear Shelley mumble something round his gag in response.

“She wasn’t talking to you” Jask kicks him once, hard, and he falls silent, “and of course, love, nowhere else I’d rather be than with the two of you”

Another muffled sound escapes from Shelley and this time it’s you who reaches to quiet him, your hand gripping at his throat and pinning it until he’s struggling to breathe.

“Jask told you to be quiet, if you can’t show some goddamn fucking _restraint_ I will cut your fucking tongue out and make you swallow it. Am I clear?” he nods once, as best he can given your grip, and you release him and settle back in your seat.

The rest of the drive is silent, with the occasional sob falling from Renfri who’s seated beside you, but if she’s had any thoughts of speaking up she’s learnt her lesson from what she’d heard you say to Shelley. As you pull up to the forest clearing you can see the bloodlust already beginning to take over Jask, his eyes glazing slightly and he trembles with a nervous energy that you’ve not seen since he’d helped rescue you from Stregobor.

“Not long now Jask, as we discussed, okay?”

“Mhmm” he grins wickedly as he cracks his knuckles in anticipation and it sends a white hot bolt of desire shooting up your spine. If you weren’t on a time constraint you know you’d be on him right then and there, tearing the dark clothes off eager to get to what’s beneath. It had been so long since you’d seen him like this and he was _your_ Jask again finally, the man you’d fallen in love with. Before you can think any further on those particularly _delectable_ thoughts you feel the van come to a halt, “are you sure you don’t want to swap before we get this started?”

“I’m sure, Jask, just do as we agreed, I know you want to have a bit more fun but I can make that up to you later” you purr the words at him and his eyes flutter shut for just a moment as he contemplates all the different outcomes.

“Come on, out” he’s interrupted by Geralt’s gruff demeanor as he opens the rear door and roughly yanks Shelley from within, throwing him to his knees in the dirt in front of him, “her next”

You’re no less gentle with Renfri than Geralt had been with Shelley and she lets out a pained grunt as she hits the ground with a hard thud. They both stay silent once on the floor, seeming to understand the situation they’re in, as you and the boys discuss what to do. You start first, your hand winding roughly through Shelley’s binds as you drag him to you and pull off his hood.

“I’m giving you a chance to run, Shelley. One of us _will_ catch you, I’m just giving you a chance that it won’t be me. And you better fucking _pray_ it’s not” your smile is predatory as you lean in to cut his binds and he goes pale at the sight, “now run” his eyes linger on Renfri’s form for just a second before he’s bolting off into the forest.

“Give him five minutes, boys, he’ll need it”

“Are you sure you don’t need any help with this one?” Jask sneers as he looks down at Renfri, but Geralt steps between the two of them and blocks her off from his view.

“No, we have our own job to do, leave her to it” his voice leaves no room for argument and another wave of heat floods through you at his tone, silently hoping he’ll still be in such a dominant mood with Jask when you’ve finished with the evening’s _entertainment,_ “come on Jask, let’s go before he gets too far ahead”

Geralt leans over the top of Renfri’s still knelt figure to press a heated kiss to your lips and you can’t help but moan into it, enjoying the feel of his mouth fitting against yours so naturally after everything you’ve been through.

“There’s time for more of that later, sweetheart” there’s a playful lilt to his voice as he pulls away and the sound of it is like music to your ears, you’re almost giddy with joy at the sound after so long and he shoots you a knowing smile before heading off into the woods with Jaskier.

You watch after the two of them until they’re out of sight before turning your attention to Renfri. She’s still silent for now and for once you find that you aren’t actually looking forward to what you’re about to do to her. Shelley, oh, Shelley you couldn’t wait to get your hands on for what he’d done to you, but Renfri? She’d just been dragged into this mess. But you couldn’t leave her alive.

“I want you to know, before we start, I want you to know that I’m not looking forward to this”

“You don’t have to-”

“I do. But help me make this easy on you. This _will_ hurt, it will hurt a _lot_ , I need you to scream as loud as you can so he hears and I’ll make it quicker for you”

“Fuck you”

You sigh heavily before returning to the van to collect your equipment, laying it out neatly on the floor before ripping the bag from her head. She only flinches slightly at the sudden movement and her face is bared in a snarl of anger as she looks you dead in the eye.

“Reconsider, please” is all you say before you set to work.

You’re surprised by just how determined she is as you _cut_ and _rip_ and _tear_ at her; while she does make some noise it’s nothing like what you’re used to, no matter what you do. By the time you’re finished with her she’s barely conscious, blood splattering the soft earth below as she slumps to the floor.

“I really didn’t want to have to do this….” you visibly wince as you stick the blade into her throat, cutting deep enough that it’s buried to the hilt, before pulling. For once the warm slick of blood coating your hand doesn’t excite you and instead of the familiar sensation of elation you feel a sickness settle in your stomach. You can’t look as you keep cutting, ignoring the choked off gargles of Renfri as you hack off her head.

________________________________________________________________

“Let him go” you hear Jaskier before you see him and your heart catches in your throat, your pulse pounding in your ears as you creep through the dense forest. You try to circle away from where you hear his voice, further away until you think you’re directly in front of him but far enough back that you might be able to catch Shelley unaware.

“Where’s Renfri? Let her go and you can have him” Shit. You look at the bag in your now trembling hand and gently set it down against a tree. A grim streak of rust coats the rough bark in its wake.

“She’s in the woods somewhere, let him go and you can go look for her”

“I don’t believe you”

“Just let him go”

As you get closer you can see Shelley’s figure through the trees, he’s bloodied and beaten with his hair hanging in wild knotted clumps from where it has no doubt caught on the branches as he’s raced through the forest. But more worryingly you can see that he has a gun, Geralt’s gun, pressed to Geralt’s temple while his arm constricts Geralt’s throat. You do your best to catch Jask’s eye as you move through the underbrush as quietly as you can to take your place behind Shelley. It would be easy enough if you could get Jaskier’s attention for even a second, get him to keep Shelley talking and distracted then all you’d need to do would be make a quick cut and he’d be down. Not at all the way you’d wanted to do this but Geralt was more important than revenge.

He finally seems to catch your eye and you press your finger to your lips as you pull your knife from where it’s strapped to your thigh. It’s lighter than what you’re used to but no less deadly as it glints in the low light of the moon.

“Look, we won’t come after you, you can leave, just fucking let him go” Jask keeps talking to try and keep Shelley distracted as you creep closer and you’re just behind him when you hear a snap beneath your feet. You have about two seconds, you know, before he turns to see you, and you use the time to rush him with your full strength.

It’s not enough, you know it’s not even as your body collides with his and he grunts at the impact, his hold is too firm and you’re too small to do him any damage, but you have to try. There’s a small grunt of surprise from him as you kick instinctively at his legs to try and bring him down as your arm wraps round his throat but he stays standing. He feels solid, a thick wall of muscle that no matter how hard you try you just can’t bring down, but you know you can’t give up while he still has Geralt in his grasp.

The blade of your knife angles upwards easily and you shove hard as you try to cut deep enough to at least puncture a lung, anything to get him to let go of Geralt so you could get him out of harm’s way.

_Not again. Not again. Not again._

“I didn’t want this” Shelley actually addresses you as he stands strong against your assault, his voice rough and strained as your knife pushes between his ribs.

“Should’ve thought about that before you came after what’s mine” you snarl back. He gasps as you put as much pressure onto the small blade as you can, “now let him go”

“I-I missed you, never should’ve-” he doesn’t get to finish his sentence as Geralt thrusts an elbow against him sharply, helping to push your blade deeper, and his words are cut off by a cry of pain.

“Mmm sorry” he mutters so quietly you almost miss it, and then, a bang so loud it’s deafening causes you to fall back.

_Not again. Not again. Not again._


	26. Echoes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairings: Geralt x f!reader x Jaskier, Shelley x f!reader
> 
> Summary: Justice has finally caught up with Shelley…
> 
> Warnings: graphic depictions of violence, torture, pain, blood, guns, knives, degrading language, threatening language, dismemberment, death
> 
> Word Count: 2.3k

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry, this is very dark and graphic....

A harsh cry breaks through the ringing in your ears and you realise loosely that it’s Jaskier. The shock of hearing his pained shout brings you back to your senses and you find yourself hitting Shelley hard over the head with the hilt of your knife, just once is enough for him to go limp in your grip.

“Jask, _shit_ , Jask, are you okay?” you drop Shelley to the floor unceremoniously, both you and Geralt leaving him behind as you run to where Jask is leant against a tree for support. He’s still standing and you take that as a positive, though when your eyes track down to find the wound you can’t help but let out a sob. Blood is saturating the leg of his trousers and you can clearly see where the bullet has entered.

“Did it come out, fuck, did it come out?”

He mumbles something back that’s barely audible through his laboured breathing and Geralt is quick to wrap his arms around Jask and gently set him on the floor so that he doesn’t waste any more energy trying to stay upright. He’s growing pale rapidly and the darkening pool of blood on the ground beneath him has fear spiking in your veins.

“It’s still in” Geralt confirms your fears and you can hear the strain in his voice.

“Can you get it out?”

“Not here- maybe back at the house? Should have something”

“Geralt, that’s- fuck- okay, you go. I’ll take care of Shelley”

“I’m not leaving you with him”

“And I’m not letting him go, so you have to Geralt”

You can see him debating it in his head, the chances of Jaskier surviving if he stays, the chances of you getting hurt if he goes. He looks like he’s about to say something when Jask makes a choked off sob from where he’s still cradled in Geralt’s arms and it makes his mind up for him. 

“Be safe, okay? You need me just call me, just, just make sure the bastard pays for what he’s done. Please” 

You take the chance to hold him while you can, your arms wrapping tightly round his broad waist and pulling him close as you bury your head in his chest. 

“Just make sure Jask is okay, please, I couldn’t bare it if-" 

“He’ll be fine, I promise you, I won’t let anything happen to him” Geralt presses a fierce kiss to the top of your head, inhaling deeply as he does, and you know he’s terrified of leaving you here alone after what’s just happened. 

“Thank you, now go, go, get him safe” it takes all of your strength to let go of Geralt. 

He’s careful as he lifts Jask into his strong arms and you don’t miss the concern that paints his features as he gingerly positions Jaskier’s limp body so as best to avoid any further trauma. You take the chance to press a soft kiss to his forehead, a murmured “I love you” against his hair, and then Geralt is carrying him away and you’re left alone with Shelley.

You take a steadying breath as you fight back the tears that are threatening to spill, you know now isn’t the time for this, you have a lot to do before Shelley wakes up, and you’ll be damned if you let this bastard see you cry. It’s hard work without Geralt to help you with the heavy lifting and you find yourself tiring as you drag Shelley’s still limp body through the forest clearing; you strain as you make slow progress on your mission and by the time you have him suitably restrained to a tree you can feel the sweat trickling into your eyes from the exertion. Fucking built bastard. After checking the ropes a few times for strength you make a quick run back to the tree where you’d left your tools, before settling in to wait for him to wake up. You lose track of time as you sit resting against the same tree Jask had been not even an hour before, your mind caught up in the haze of emotions that wash over you. Every few minutes you find yourself pulling your phone out, desperate for any news at all on his condition as you wait. 

After what feels like hours you finally see Shelley stir with a groan, and you practically leap to your feet to get to him. His eyes are wild and frenzied as he sees you approach and he starts to strain desperately at his binds in a futile attempt to get away.

“I told you to pray it wasn’t me Shelley” there’s no joy in your voice as you drop to a crouch in front of him. His face somehow grows paler as the realisation truly hits home for him. He’s stuck, no way out, and he’d made things worse for himself, “I want you to be truthful with me, just like I’m about to be with you. It won’t make it any easier on you, you have no hope of that after what you’ve done, I just want to know why”

He doesn’t attempt to answer for a few moments and you feel white hot rage bubble up in your veins at his silence. A snarl tears from you as you pull your knife from it’s strap on your chest and press it against his thigh in the exact same spot that Jaskier had taken the bullet.

“I’m sorry, I never-”,

“Never what?” you growl, viscous and sharp, as the knife slices a thin, deep cut, “fuck, and to think I felt bad about what I did to Renfri” 

His eyes go wide for a second as he contemplates what that could possibly mean and you shoot him a sadistic grin in response, “She was strong willed, I’ll give her that, could’ve made it so much easier on herself if only she did as she was told, but she didn’t want you to hear her in pain. Stupid bitch”

“What did you do?”

“Nothing compared to what I’m going to do to you”

“Please-”

“You tried to take everything from me, and for what? Was it fucking worth it?” the knife twists deeper and Shelley howls in pain. 

“I thought- I thought” his words are cut off by another cry as you pull your blade out and leave the wound gaping and open, gore now flowing thick and fast to the dull forest floor beneath.

“You thought _what_?”

“I- If you didn’t have them, you would come back”

“Come back? To what?”

“Me” it’s a whimpered confession, born of loss and sorrow, and if the situation had been different you’re sure you might even be able to feel some sympathy towards the deluded idiot. But right now, with the splattering of Jaskier’s blood not even 10 feet away and the hilt of the knife you’d used on Geralt still firmly in your grip, all you can feel is anger. You can’t help but to laugh, a hollow, empty bark that shows your incredulity at just how stupid this man could be.

“I’m not even going to entertain that with a response”

“Please, need you to know-”

“All of this for some deluded daydream. You had years, Shelley, years to reach out to me before I found Geralt, before I found my home. You let me think you were fucking dead until you got jealous? _Fuck you_ ” Rage permeates every word as you let the full extent of your fury be known, “I wasn’t expecting something so fucking stupid from you. I assumed Stregobor had some hold on you. But this? Of your own volition?”

There’s nothing else you can say right now, no way that words can express the pure hatred you feel for the man currently bound and bleeding at your feet, all that you have left to do is make him feel as much pain as you had before you end him. Your thoughts jump back to the bag at your side and an absolutely sickening grin creeps across your face.

“Do you want to see your precious Renfri one last time? I’m not even sure why in the fuck she was so loyal to you, not after what you just told me”

“Renfri, she- she’s here?”

“Of course, she’s going to watch what I’m about to do to you. Say hello Shelley, I’m sure she’s missed you”

His face grows even paler, though you’re not sure if that’s because of the blood loss or the head that you’re slowly lifting out of the bag to greet him.

“Now, she’s just gonna sit right here,” you set the severed head down on a tree stump close by, eyes pointed directly at Shelley’s now trembling figure, before heading to collect more tools from your collection, “while I get the information that I need from you”

He swallows thickly as you crouch down next to him to assume the same position you had been in previously and you’re thankful that he seems to have realised there’s no use in pleading with you. Smart man, just not when it really counts.

“I only have one very simple question- where is Stregobor?”

“I don’t know”

“Wrong answer” you hold up a small metal object just quick enough for him to see, before plunging it deep into the knife wound and he howls with pain as the jagged edges rip into the tender flesh, “try again”

“I don’t fucking know, fuck, I swear, please-” 

“ _Wrong_ ,” you twist the top of the metal device, “ _fucking_ ,” you twist again, “ _answer_ ” each twist causes the device to spread out, opening up the knife wound and tearing out new chunks of skin and muscle with each movement, “I know you know what this does, and I know that you aren’t going to enjoy it if I have to use more of them on you, so I’ll ask again. Where is he?”

“I swear, I fucking swear, I don’t know”

“Always were a stubborn fuck. No matter, I have plenty more toys where that came from”

The next one sinks into his shoulder, but unlike the one embedded deep in his thigh, this one cuts deep and encloses a thick swathe of muscle, before being ripped out violently. The spray of blood left in its aftermath has you smiling sadistically at Shelley who’s already starting to go limp in his binds.

“No, uh uh, you aren’t getting out of this so easily” another quick spear of the now dripping weapon into his other shoulder has him practically wailing, “I can do this all day, Shel, so you might as well save yourself the effort of trying to hide this from me”

“I- fuck, fuck, okay, I know where he is”

“I’m waiting”

He shakily breathes out the words that you so desperately needed to hear from him and you quickly text the information across to Geralt while it’s fresh in your mind.

“Well done,” you get back to your feet with a smile and begin to tidy up your supplies, “took less time than I thought”

“I- are you, are you letting me go?” The hopeful lift to his strained words has joy practically soaring through your veins. You can’t wait to crush that from him. But not yet. 

“Well you did give me what I asked for. Do you think we’re even?”

“I don’t- uh- no, no I don’t”

“Good, glad we agree” before he can say anything else you pull your gun from it’s strap and aim.

“That,” you shoot his unmarked thigh, “is for Jaskier” he can’t hold back his scream of anguish as you inflict more pain on his already wrecked body, “and this,” you fall back to the now familiar crouch and slide your knife quickly and deeply between his ribs, “is for Geralt”

“P-Please, just, just kill me, fuck”

“You don’t deserve that luxury, not after what you did to me, to them, no. This is going to be as painful as I can make it,” your hand reaches down to put pressure on the head of the metal pear still stuck in his thigh and he hisses, a sickly sweet noise to your ears, before ripping it out in one fluid movement, “you’re fucking lucky Geralt isn’t here with me or I’d be ripping your damn ribcage open and pulling your lungs out like you deserve” 

“Please” his words are hushed and you know he hasn’t got much longer left, not with the blood loss and the toll the pain will have taken on his body.

“Luckily for you I’m not strong enough to break ribs with my own hands, so this will have to suffice” you smile sweetly at him as you pull your knife out from its resting place in his chest and ever so slowly press it in, a fresh wound opening right next to the previous one; you repeat the motion over and over, new incisions lining his chest and welling fresh fountains of blood, until finally you feel him still beneath you. 

A quick press of your fingers to his neck confirms he’s dead, no pulse to be found, and you let out a sob you didn’t even know you’d been holding in. Your hands shake as you grab at your phone to call Geralt, to let him know that clean up is needed asap and that it’s done, and the sound of his voice on the other end of the line helps to ground you from the spiral that you feel is fast approaching. He won’t be long, he says, Jask is currently being treated by the best private doctor that money can buy, he’ll tell you more when he sees you, and despite his words not being as hopeful as you’d liked his tone is reassuring and comforting in the way that only he can be.

You settle against an unmarked tree with a sigh, fighting the tears that are threatening to overtake you, and wait for Geralt to arrive.


End file.
